


Heart Shaped like Sea Glass

by jubilantscribbler



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Deadvid, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Selkie!Cute Waitress, Siren!Daniel, You've heard of Dadvid get ready for, but the bird kind of of siren, implied suicidal thoughts, mentions of David
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27415768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jubilantscribbler/pseuds/jubilantscribbler
Summary: The call of the ocean cries out to everyone.  For some, it calls for someone to come home.  For another, it calls to offer a reprieve.  But the ocean isn't the only thing that calls.A voice calls to Jasper from among the waves as he tries to settle into his new life alone.  But it is not the ocean that calls to him with a promise.  Even so......Even so.(Originally posted on Tumblr)
Relationships: Daniel & Jasper (Camp Camp), past David/Jasper
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Washed Up like Broken Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A voice from yesterday’s past calls out to Jasper, and he finds himself hopelessly chasing after it.

Once upon a time, there was a dream that Jasper had. A dream where he and his David were married and lived out by the sea, where the waves crash against the rocks and the cry of the gulls became the backdrop of their peaceful lives. It was a nice dream - a dream that was well within his grasp as the two of them prepared to settle in together and live a quiet life with little to no strife.

But alas, he forgets how easily it is for a dream to be crushed. They had been so close, so close to fulfilling their dream together, of living by the sea with the taste of salt on their tongues that they could forget the scent of the pines for just a minute. But the pines lured David in one day, with the promise of the ripest blackberries that Jasper loved so much, and then-

And then Jasper lost his taste for blackberries. And of the forest. And of wild animals with gnashing teeth and sharp claws, and of the scent of the pines, and of the sound of breaking branches and red against green and eyes too dull to be his David's and scattered dreams and shattered futures-

So he ran away.

He ran away to the ocean and left the remains of his David behind as the tears blurred his vision and his screams were drowned out by the crash of the waves and the cries of the gulls. It's hardly been but a season, and he finds himself getting used to the idea of surrounding himself in loneliness, so long as his heart can continue to break in peace. At least he can find solace in the sea they had once yearned to see together.

The shine of the stars reflects on the calm waves, the rhythmic push and pull of the sand coaxing his mind to a halt as he sits under the moonlight. An idle thought threatens to slip its way into his mind, but he quickly shoves it away with a shaky inhale and a closing of his eyes. He can't remember right now. Not yet. His heart hurts too much to keep the tears at bay, and there's already enough salt in the sea that he doesn't need to add more to it. Instead, what he does is listen to the backdrop of the present, because that's where he needs to be. No matter how much he yearns to step backwards and collapse back into the past of bright eyes and loving smiles. So he listens to the cries of the gulls, and the song of the sea, and a voice that tugs at his heart as if-

...As if?

He pulls his knees close to his chest and hides his face against them. No, that's just his mind playing its cruel tricks again. It can't be. But his ears strain to hear that familiar voice, that sweet, gentle, kind voice that would laugh at his jokes and call his name lovingly, and it can't be, it CAN'T be-

 _"Oh, but can't you hear my words, my love?"_ His heart skips, then sinks like a stone. He's imagining things again, there's no way- _"Hear my cries, sweetest beloved, for it's your touch I lack thereof. Please, my dear, come hear my song. I promise to stay 'til morning come."_

It's almost funny how often he gives into his desperate imagination, opening his eyes to look out into the sea to confirm his mind playing another cruel trick on him. Strangely enough, however, he... sees a figure resting on the distant rocks in the sea. A familiar figure, he thinks, as he swallows thickly. The figure continues to croon his song to Jasper in a voice he hasn't yet managed to forget, and it stirs his chest up and ties his stomach into a knot.

The moonlight shines down onto the figure just enough that he swears, he swears-

Red locks that look soft, that he knows are soft because he's combed his fingers through those very locks himself-

(Red locks stained with a deeper shade that clumped and matted together no matter how much he brushed those bangs out of his eyes, and Jasper was just smearing the blood everywhere, the blood was everywhere, god no, please no please-)

And eyes greener than the most precious of emeralds, shining vibrant with life and glee and so much warmth-

(And eyes greener than the forest themselves, dull and wide and empty and he wondered, he thought and agonized, did he die afraid? Filled with fear and desperation and pain and did he call his name and scream for him but was left with no answer and alone and abandoned-)

And his voice croons to him, calling to him sweetly, "Come to me?"

And he answers back.

(Before he loses his chance once more.)

"Davey?" He pushes himself up, wading into the cold sea as he stares desperately ahead of him. "Davey? Is that you?"

"It is!" The voice calls back, and Jasper believes it, desperately, even though the cadence is all wrong and there's a hint of something off about the voice, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care because he just wants to reach out and touch something warm, something that feels like life-

The ocean threatens to push him away, carry him back to the beach and away from his David, and he can't, he _can't_ let that happen again, he can't let anything separate them again. He grits his teeth against the cold and swims against the push of the sea, ignoring how it tries to carry him back to safety as he swims deeper into the waters and closer to the rocks. The waves grow agitated, threatening to pull him under as he continues to fight and swim towards the rocks, then dunking him underwater more times than he can count as his breath escapes him and leaves him gasping for air.

But he can't turn back now. Not when he can see David so clearly in the night, how he smiles widely for him, and just him, and he's close he's so close he can almost-

Hands reach out to grasp him, and he’s hauled up the rocks to catch his breath. Before the voice can speak, he lurches forward and clings tight to the figure. "Davey," he whimpers, face buried against a shoulder, "is it really you?"

"I-"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Jasper pulls back with a watery smile and cups his face, tears obscuring his vision as he sobs into the open air. "But I'm here now, okay? I'm here now, and you won't be alone. I won't leave you alone ever again."

He can see confusion settle on the figure's face as he keeps his smile and his tears. Reality set in the minute he pushed under the waves and rose back up with the haze broken from him. And reality kept its hold on him the minute he felt those feathers brush against his fingertips. But Jasper is desperate. And if this siren can be his angel...

Well, if he can help him see his Davey again, then it's a win-win situation for both of them, right?

The siren hesitates, blue eyes searching Jasper's as the mirage of David no longer lingers. Blonde hair wafts gently with the breeze as clawed hands take hold of Jasper's shoulders.

"...Are you alright?"

And sobs shake Jasper's frame as he curls forward and rests his forehead on the siren's shoulder. "Please," he begs, "please."

He just wants to see David again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Check out this comic drawn by [Ellohcee ](https://ellohcee.tumblr.com/post/633171294881529856/this-is-from-the-first-part-of-heart-shaped-like)based off this very chapter!)
> 
> Hey guys! So this series has been floating around Tumblr for a while now, but by request, I'll be cross posting this onto AO3 as well! Unlike my usual works, these chapters will be relatively short, about 1-2k long usually. But because they're so short, I'll be posting new chapters every Friday. 
> 
> Currently the series is up to Part/Chapter 6. I'll be posting a new chapter every other day or so until it catches up with the current chapter. Once we're all caught up here, this fic will be following the same update schedule as my blog! Until then, see you guys there!


	2. Unfavorable Choices to Ideal Circumstances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment’s hesitation demands that Daniel come up with a reason for why he takes concern in his prey’s well-being, and why he finds himself refusing to eat his prey.

_(Do the humans know that the ocean speaks to them all? Every day, he hears the cries and songs of the sea, but he can never answer back. For a siren, it's heartbreaking. The sea is their home, and yet, it finds new ways to reject them everyday. Do they know? Do they know the words the ocean speaks to them? How envious, to be so ignorant of the ocean's love for them. He wishes he could be deaf to the cries of the sea, if only so he could ignore the judgement that it passes each day.)_

There once was a time where Daniel wondered why it was that sirens resembled humans so much. From the navel up, they look just like humans, save for the talons at the ends of their fingers, and the wings that lay pressed against their backs. Though some sirens have feathers dotting the edges of their face, as if to signify that yes, they are definitely not human. As if to show that they have just enough differences to separate themselves from the humans they hunt.

As if that's enough to justify devouring man as natural prey. But natural prey they are, as human meat can be so delectable if the right specimen is lured by their songs. The healthiest, happiest humans taste the best, Daniel has found. Meat tender and flavored with so much emotion - sweet from happiness, tangy from adrenaline, and so very savory from the exhilaration of having their desires granted. And while some catches aren't always the most flavorful, he can rely on the easy hunts to at least keep him full until his next hunt. 

So why is it that he hesitates now?

A human clutches tight to him, calling him by a name he assumes belongs to the illusion that came with his song. This human desired a bygone love - he wasn't that special, Daniel has eaten plenty of humans that tasted like bitter regret and salty heartbreak. They don't taste the greatest, but they make for a filling and quick meal. But as he inhales more of the human's scent, he gets a whiff of... rot. Well, no, not quite like rot. But the smell reminds him of the struggling fish that swim around the ocean, sick and diseased and afflicted by infection that makes their flesh taste only a little more palatable than the bloated corpses he comes across every once in a while. 

Again, this human isn't that special in regards to that. He's had his share of less than delectable humans. But then the human cups his face, and Daniel sees eyes bluer than the depths of the ocean. It's... striking. And a bit heartbreaking. For those eyes, they lack a shine to them. He imagines that if this human were not so inflicted, he'd have eyes that shine like the ocean when the sun casts its rays on the surface, and oh, what a beautiful sight it would be to behold. Carefully, Daniel rests his clawed hands on the human's shoulders and looks over him once more.

"...Are you alright?"

_(The ocean threatens to crash over him, but falters at his question. He can hear its whispers, but can't make out the words.)_

He's not sure why he asks that. It's clear from the stench and desire that reeks from this human that he's not okay. But again, not the worst meal he's had. 

Still.

"Please," the human begs, and Daniel catches a whiff of another desire, "please." Daniel wasn't always a fan of these desires, but they made catching prey so easy that he'd always hone in on these ones for a fast meal. However, the ocean crashes against the rocks they sit upon and he remembers the human's dull eyes, and thinks.

Gently, he pushes the human off of him and takes a better gander at him. The human is healthy - just the right balance of muscle and fat. Had it not been for the stench, Daniel would have happily partaken in his flesh. 

But.

There's always a but, isn't there?

Salty tears continue to pour from the human's eyes as his smile falters and he slumps forward. "Please..." Daniel catches him, and he thinks, and thinks, and thinks.

There's this... activity, he's seen humans do. They raise animals, yes? To later kill and eat. When he's up in the sky, hiding among the clouds, he sees the humans raise all sorts of animals to eat later. Raise them up until they are the right age, fed the right diet, and killed when the right time comes. Easier than hunting. Easier than lunging for fish and hoping to catch one that's healthy and plump and not infected by a wound or sickness.

Easier than luring prey.

He hums softly, and the human relaxes in his hold.

Yes. Yes, that's what he'll do. Perhaps, that's what he wants to do.

_(The ocean howls, and the spray hits the back of his wings. It screams to him, "Liar!", but aren't all sirens liars in the end?)_

"Aren't you going to eat me?" The human's voice is muffled against his shoulder, and Daniel runs his talons through his dark, soggy hair.

"Oh no, not yet." The human jolts, but doesn't pull away. Interesting. "You're not good enough to eat."

"...Oh."

"But I can fix that." Daniel pulls back enough to grin, showing off his sharp fangs as the human stares. Yet another difference between them. He can't understand how humans have managed to thrive for so long with just blunt teeth. "I can make you a meal to die for."

He expects the human to react in fear. To try and get away from Daniel now that the spell is broken. But he stays in place, looking ever so sad. Ever so defeated.

It turns his stomach.

"...Alright."

It almost ruffles his feathers how easy it is to get this human to comply. He expected a little bit of a fight at least! Maybe a little bit of excitement! Instead, he huffs and quickly scoops the human up. The human makes a startled yelp and clings to Daniel.

Warm.

The thought sticks to Daniel as he spreads his wings and takes off of the rocky outcropping... only to splash haphazardly into the ocean. They would have sunk like stones if it weren't for the down covering his legs, but Daniel refuses to give up as he beats his wings even harder. The human is heavier than he realized, and he can hear the ocean laughing softly at his struggle. Still, he manages to keep them both afloat, and his wings do enough work to lift them out of the water just enough that he skirts the surface with his feet. He runs across as his wings propel him forward, leaning towards the beach as he keeps the human clutched tightly in his arms.

_(Surprisingly, the ocean pushes him forward, almost making him ride the waves as it aids him to his destination. The ocean has never helped him before.)_

With a grunt, he lands on the sandy beach with only half of him thoroughly soaked. The human shivers in his arms and he remembers, right, that humans can die if they’re too wet and cold. He's seen a number of them perish this way.

And it'd be awful if his meal perished before he could make good on his word.

...Right?

Right.

Daniel walks towards the shack he's seen the human exit from earlier and kicks it open violently. The large wooden slab of planks slams against more wood, making the human flinch. He almost apologizes, before remembering that the human is a meal he's preparing for the long run, and nothing else. Quietly, he dumps the human on the ground and folds his arms.

"I'll be back in the morning to make sure you're still alive." He steps out of the human abode and watches as the human groans and rubs his lower back. "Until then, get yourself dry and stay warm. It'd be a shame if I came back and you've already perished like some abandoned chick." Daniel waits for a response from the human, but gets nothing. Frowning, he turns his back on the human and is about to start his running takeoff when he hears a soft sniffle.

...The scent is stronger than before. It's enough to make him hesitate, before remembering the original desire that lured the human to him earlier. A throaty hum is all he needs to warm himself up.

_"...Take care of yourself, okay?"_ A soft gasp escapes the human as he hears a scrambling behind him. _"I'll be back before you know it!"_

"Davey-!" The human shouts behind him, but Daniel is already running and taking off. The heavy beat of his wings drowns out the cries of the human as he makes his way to the cliffs nearby.

The human will be fine.

He ignores the gnawing in his chest as he flies to his nest.

...The human will be fine.

_(He thinks the ocean hates him and his kind. It shouts to him, "Cruel monster!" as he lies and baits and tricks yet another human. But perhaps his beloved ocean is correct in its assessment. As he stares out towards the shack with the sobbing human, he wonders for just a moment if he has taken it a step too far. And he wonders, perhaps, if killing the human would have provided a better, kinder mercy than what he has settled on.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just like ponyo!


	3. Comfort Feeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jasper forgets what it’s like to hunger, but a certain siren refuses to leave him alone until his very basic need is satisfied.

It was all a dream. That's what he finds himself thinking when he wakes up, once again, to the sun shining in through his window. It was all a dream - how else would he explain away the disappointment that seeps into his chest at the thought of David? That vision he had, where he heard and felt and held David in his arms, it was all but a dream.

Because David is dead.

No matter how much he wishes it isn't so.

He rolls onto his side and stares at the wall. The shack remains quiet as the world continues to bustle around him. Sounds of the ocean are distant, despite it being right outside. He should get up, get something to eat, but he finds himself unable to move. It's not like he's hungry, and even if he was, he'd have no food to eat. Granted, all it would take is a quick trip into the nearby town, but the thought of having to fake pleasantries and wave off concerns from people he doesn't know is... a bit too much for him at the moment.

And anyways, he can go on without food for a little bit longer. If he's desperate, he can seek out the local fisherman. The old man would always hand him a fish or two, but once he insists on cooking it for Jasper, whatever energy the brunette has left is sapped, and he simply shakes his head and leaves the old man behind.

The fish then gets left in a pot that boils over, and whatever flavor the fish had is lost to the fire. Not like he could taste anything anyways. Everything tastes dull, flat, like parchment, and the thought of tasting anything sweet again leaves a roiling in his stomach that never seems to go away.

He's about to curl back up to sleep his day away when a loud slam gets his attention.

"Hello!" A voice from his dream has him sitting up in confusion. There, standing in the doorway with a smirk is... a siren? His head throbs as blonde hair and blue eyes triggers something in his memories. That... that wasn't a dream? Then, did he really-?

Ah.

No.

Of course not.

He clenches his shirt as he looks at the siren with a tired gaze.

"Oh."

"I said I'd be back. Good to see that my meal is still alive!" The siren cocks his head to the side, smile still in place as he studies Jasper. "Although, still not thriving I see."

"What are you talking about."

"I meant what I said, you know." The siren stalks close to Jasper, talons clicking against the wooden floor as he folds his arms behind him. "I am going to make you a meal to simply die for."

Jasper rubs his eyes as the dreamlike memories become more and more... vivid. He was tricked, lured by the siren's song last night. That would explain his hazy memories, his throbbing head, and the siren standing before him. He should be dead - why isn't he dead?

And then. A promise. A deal. 

Right, of course. Of course he would agree to that. It's not like he had much to live for anyways.

"I believe you."

The siren's smirk falters a bit. Jasper's probably the most boring prey the blonde has ever encountered. He would apologize except, he really doesn't care.

"Hm. Well, I can see that you're still resting in your... nest. Have you not eaten yet?"

"No." And he doesn't really plan to. The siren frowns, looking around the near empty shack with distaste. 

"I see. I've heard that you humans tend to keep food stocked up somewhere. Where is your food storage?"

"Don't have one." 

The siren's frown deepens, talons clicking against the floorboards loudly. "...No food storage? So you have no food then."

"Yeah."

"Well, go out and get some!"

Jasper curls back under his thin blanket. "Not hungry." An irritated growl answers him as the clicking talons move away from him and towards the door. He closes his eyes with a sigh. Good. Now he can be left alone.

The sounds of the ocean are a little clearer now as waves crash against the sandy beach. A distant splash mingles with the call of the gulls, but he ignores it in favor of going back to sleep. Maybe if he's lucky, the siren will feel hungry instead-

The only warning he gets is the heavy flap of wings before something wet slaps against his face. He jolts upright with a yelp, and a fish falls into his lap.

"Gods!" A dead eyed fish stares up at him as a soft rumble comes from the siren.

"Food." The siren looks much too proud about a single fish. "Eat it now." Jasper looks down at the fish as its glassy stare stares back at him. At least it's dead. 

...Still. 

"I can't eat this." The satisfied smile on the siren's face drops as he glares at Jasper.

"And why's that?"

"I... I just can't." He gingerly picks up the dead fish. Five deep gouge marks are embedded in the fish's sides. Jasper takes a peek down the siren's feet. What looks like blood decorates the talons of one foot. Oh. Neat.

"Oh you've- give that to me." The siren snatches the fish back from Jasper with a look of disgust. "I thought you humans eat fish all the time! Don't tell me you don't know how to eat this."

Uh. "What?" 

The siren rolls his eyes. "Look at me."

He really doesn't want to.

But he isn't given much of a choice as the siren tilts his head back and opens his maw. The fish is dropped head first into his gaping mouth, much to Jasper's horror. He shrieks as the siren looks to be choking on the fish- can't sirens chew?? They chew right?? The siren has teeth- look, he has teeth! Why is he- 

"Why are you swallowing that whole?!" Jasper jumps out of his bed and smacks the siren's back roughly. The siren makes a startled gagging noise as the fish comes flying out of his mouth, only to be caught haphazardly by the siren's taloned hands. Feathers fluff up in a rage as the siren shakes the fish in Jasper's face.

"Why did you do that for?!"

"You were gonna choke-!"

"No you _idiot_ , I was showing you how to eat fish because apparently, you don't know _how_ -"

"I know how to eat fish!"

"Then eat it!" The fish gets shoved against Jasper's mouth as he recoils.

"Ugh! Gross!"

"Wha-" The siren pulls back, insulted as he looks between the fish and Jasper. "Ex _cuse_ me, but this is _mackerel_ , and it is a _delicious_ fucking fish, so apologize!"

"No- I- what??" Jasper looks at the silver fish flopping sadly around in the siren's talons. He blinks at the dead thing before muttering softly, "I... I'm sorry?"

"Good." The fish is thrust back into his face. "Now eat."

"I can't!" He pushes the siren's hand away from him. "It's raw!"

"It's... what?" The siren looks back at the fish, scrutinizing it closer before looking back at Jasper, completely baffled. "No, I told you, it's mackerel."

"No, I mean-" Jasper runs his hand through his thick hair. Of course the siren has no concept of raw or cooked food. He just eats whatever he wants as is. But Jasper can't do that! He'll get sick and maybe die, and if he is to die, he refuses to go out by the means of a dead, slimy fish disagreeing with his stomach. "I can't... eat the fish like this. The flesh, as it is, will hurt my stomach and make me sick!" The siren once again looks between the poor fish and Jasper before a look of exasperated understanding crosses his features.

"I understand now." Jasper slumps his shoulders in relief as the siren nods. "Humans have the stomach of a chick. No wonder you creatures never live long."

"...What?"

"You need chick food." The siren slaps the fish down on Jasper's table and quickly turns around. "Wait here."

"No, wait-" But the siren is already dashing out of his shack before Jasper can stop him. He looks towards the dead fish with a sense of unease. Chick... food? Jasper trudges out of his shack and looks around the beach. 

No siren.

He looks up into the sky and shades his eyes. Squinting, he sees a flying figure circling above him before flying off towards... the town? Quickly, Jasper dashes after the siren, following his shadow as the siren heads towards the more wooded areas of the town. The siren lands not too far from where Jasper skids to a stop, slumping over and panting as he watches the siren eye the grassy ground. Before the brunette can process another thought, the siren begins to stomp on the ground, moving this way and that as he focuses on the task at hand.

...Whatever the task may be. 

The siren continues to stomp as Jasper watches with a tired mind. The blonde stops for a moment, peers at the ground, before bending down to pluck something out. He continues in this manner as Jasper idly watches, not really understanding this strange ritual the siren is doing, but also refusing to have the energy to try and decipher it. After a few moments pass, the siren huffs in satisfaction and turns around. His hands are carefully cupped around something as he stumbles back in surprise, his wings spreading slightly as he catches sight of Jasper. He huffs again, but with a more irritated edge to it as he stomps over to Jasper.

“I told you to wait.”

Jasper shrugs as the siren comes to a halt in front of him. “Got worried.”

"You’re impossible, but at least this will save me the trouble of having to travel back with live grub.” He nods towards Jasper impatiently. “Open your mouth."

Oh. Oh no. The words “live grub” makes Jasper take a step back.

"No."

"Human," he growls, "stop being difficult and let me feed you."

"What..." He looks over the siren's shoulder to where he had been standing previously. Whatever it was that he plucked from the ground, it can't possibly be for human consumption. "What did you-"

The siren's eyes brighten as he quickly shoves something wet and squirming and _alive_ into Jasper's open mouth. He spits it out immediately and starts scraping his tongue.

"AUGH!" He looks at what he had spit out onto the siren's fuming face and shrieks again. Worms! He was trying to feed Jasper living worms! "AAGH!"

"What is your problem?!" The siren shrieks at him as he carefully collects the worm off his face and adds it to his pile. "I found you chick food!"

"Humans don't eat WORMS!" Jasper spits some dirt onto the ground and groans loudly. "Humans aren't like sirens at all!"

"Oh for fucks sake-" The siren nearly trembles with fury as he keeps the worms carefully cupped in his hands. "This wouldn't be a fucking _problem_ if you'd just _eat_ something!" 

"Okay! Okay! Gods, if I ate something, would you leave me alone?!"

"Yes!" 

"Fine! Fuck!" Jasper stomps off towards the beach. The ruffling of feathers alerts him to the siren's following as he leads them back to his shack. The door is still open as they trudge through, Jasper sitting on his bed as the siren dumps the squirming worms onto his table. Jasper looks between the worms and the dead fish and contemplates his choices. The siren crosses his arms at Jasper's delayed eating.

"Well?"

Jasper stares at the fish covered in the siren's slobber. "...Can you get me a new fish?"

"You're so damn picky."

"You can eat that one! You already started to!"

"Fine! Whatever!" The siren tosses his hands up in the air as he stomps out. "I do all this work, and for what?!"

"You can have the worms too!" Jasper yells to the retreating figure as the siren squawks back in irritation. With the siren gone, Jasper gets to work stoking his fireplace. The hanging pot is removed as he considers his choices.

Boiled fish is quick and easy. He can just descale, gut, and chop up whatever fish the siren gets him and eat that. But...

He looks back at the slimy fish that the worms are starting to crawl all over. Turning back to the fireplace, he thinks that maybe the texture of boiled fish might not feel so great in his mouth. What other choices does he have? As he looks around the fireplace, he finds a stack of sharpened sticks that the fisherman had given to him.

For roasting fish, if he recalls correctly. He picks up a stick and turns it between his fingers idly.

It wouldn't be too much work, he thinks. Sure, he still needs to descale and gut the fish, but after that, he can just jab the stick in and roast it. Easier than chopping, and it won't have the potential to feel slimy.

...Yeah. This could work.

"I'm back." The siren stomps into the shack, thrusting a new but similar fish into Jasper's face. "And you had better eat this one."

"I will." He takes the fish carefully and heads to his table, grabbing a knife as he does so.

"Really?" The siren creeps towards him in surprise as Jasper sits down. "No more protests?"

"As long as I get to eat it normally like a human, then yes." The brunette begins to remove the scales with his knife, scraping it methodically as the siren begins plucking the worms off and slurping them into his mouth. As the last worm is eaten, Jasper begins to gut the fish, removing its insides as the siren sighs.

"You're wasting food."

"Then you can eat it." A taloned hand swipes the guts up as the siren shoves the intestines into his mouth. Jasper watches curiously as the creature actually chews. So they do use their fangs and teeth for something. Quietly, he jabs the stick through the head of the fish and into its stomach. He heads over to his crackling fire with the siren trailing behind him.

"What are you doing?" Jasper sticks the stick in front of the fire as he turns back to the siren. The fish from before is clutched tight in the siren's hand as he brings it up to his mouth and chomps off the head. Confusion rings loudly in Jasper's head as he tries to reason why the siren switched from swallowing the fish whole to just eating chunks of it, before shaking his head and refusing to think any further.

"I'm cooking it."

"Cooking?"

"Yeah." He settles down on the floor and watches the fish roast. "I'm making it edible for my chick stomach to handle."

The siren snorts as he sits down next to Jasper, loud schmacking noises included. "You humans have such weak stomachs."

"Can't help it."

The two of them watch as the fish slowly roasts. A nice, pleasant smell wafts through the air as Jasper's stomach growls.

...Oh.

He's.

He's hungry.

The siren sniffs and makes an interested hum. "That smells good."

"Yeah, cooking does that." Carefully, he reaches forward and plucks the roasted fish from the fire. The siren leans in close to the cooked fish, raw one already devoured, and sniffs it again.

"It's hot."

"Yeah." Jasper carefully breaks off a piece and offers it to the siren. "You wanna try it?"

"Food is food." Despite his blasé tone, the siren eagerly takes the offering from Jasper. "Mmm..." He watches as the siren's eyes brighten happily as he savors the taste. "It's good."

"Better than raw fish?"

"I wouldn't say better," the siren sniffs, "but it is good."

"Right." Jasper rolls his eyes and begins to eat. Every once in a while, he offers the siren a piece, to which the siren happily accepts. They eat together in a peaceful quiet until the bones are licked clean and Jasper finds himself feeling surprisingly full. He blinks as he stares at the fish's skeleton.

"Well, that's one meal done." The siren gets up and stretches, looking over Jasper with a smirk. "Once I'm done with you, perhaps I should try this cooking thing to make your flesh taste even more superb."

Jasper shrugs as he lays down on the floor. The siren clicks his tongue with annoyance as he nudges Jasper's head off the ground. "Sure," he says with a shrug. "Whatever you say."

"I'll be back later to make sure you have another fish to eat." Jasper closes his eyes as he listens to the tap of talons against wood. "You'd have better moved from this spot when I get back."

"No promises." A distant huff is the only response he gets before he hears the heavy flap of wings. All that's left is the sound of the fire crackling before him, and soft crashing of the waves behind him.

And for the first time in what feels like forever.

He feels... kind of warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i keep forgetting to post new chapters and friday is just around the corner gjkdsfh whoops, sorry uhhh, this version will catch up to the tumblr one by next week!! 
> 
> anyway- WORMS!! yall ordered some WORMS??


	4. Distinctions Made to be Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel has to remind himself constantly where he stands in this strange relationship he’s found himself in, less he forgets who they truly are and questions the choices he’s made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sO BAD AT UPDATING THIS. It'Ll bE CoMpLeTeLy CaUgHt uP By NeXt wEEk i SaId. WHAT A FOOL I AM.

Humans are strange creatures. They experience loss, succumb to their desires, and die in various ways that may or may not feed him. They have a strange relationship with the ocean, some hating it, some loving it. Daniel isn't very envious of them - they live such short lives, after all, and they make for filling meals that can last him for days.

So of course he doesn't know much about them. After all, they're all food to him. But this human, the one he feeds every day now, is stranger than most he encounters.

The man doesn't protest much when Daniel barges into his home (to which the human tells him is called a "shack"), and he shares his meals with Daniel without a word (after Daniel takes the time to catch him the fish of the day, of course). He has never met a human more willing and more aware of the fact that he is, in fact, Daniel's next meal. 

The more he provides for the human’s meals, the more he finds himself… feeling this strange tightness in his chest. It's not that it's off-putting, he thinks. No no, it must be that... it's too easy. Yes, that must be it.

It's too easy, sharing meals with this human, sharing conversation, and having the human accept his presence as though Daniel were nothing more than a-

Hm. Well, there's no fun in a meal that is too easy to hunt.

_(He tells himself this over and over. It is the only reason, correct? Why he feels this unease, this unnerving feeling when the human's eyes still continue to look dull, like the broken shards he sometimes finds washed up in the sand, before the ocean carries away the debris from shipwrecks past and present.)_

That's why he should be ecstatic when the human refuses to eat one day. He should be ecstatic, the human is being more impossible than usual, and that should make things _exciting_ , right?

...Right?

"Human." He shakes the human's shoulder again, trying to rouse him out of his fake sleep. "Get up." 

The human makes no sound, instead pulling the thin, worn cloth over his body some more and refusing to show his face. Daniel growls, frustrated because- well, it's because his prey is trying to starve himself! And starved prey never tastes good. Prey flavored with a proper diet taste the best, and they taste even better when they feel that rush of happiness, of pleasure, of joy, and all those positive emotions that make them taste so much like a sublime fillet of the most richest tasting salmon, or of that meaty, hearty taste of tuna. And all his efforts will be for naught if this human refuses to eat.

"You need to eat." Half a day has passed, and the human still refuses to answer Daniel. He curses himself, shaking the human more roughly as he remembers noticing the distant look in the human's eyes, how he gave Daniel more and more of his cooked fishes, how he grew more quiet, talked less, responded less, looked at Daniel less-

He doesn't know humans. He can't read the signs. But he chest squeezes and his face heats up as he realizes belatedly that he should have noticed. That probably wasn't normal human behavior, right? Oh but he doesn't know, he doesn't know! And now this human won't get up and eat, won't acknowledge him, won't speak to him-

The stench of rot almost makes him gag as he stumbles back from the human. 

He's getting worse.

And Daniel doesn't know what to do.

He runs his talons through his hair, pacing around the human's abode as he thinks, and thinks, and thinks-

His song.

If. If he can't get the human to eat normally then-

Well. This is how he was always meant to hunt, right? He's a predator. Predators hunt. They kill. They lure and trap and chase after their prey and refuse to let up. Predators don't care for their prey as though they're little chicks in need of hand-holding, nor do predators feel... emotions when they see their prey struggling.

_(Predators don't pace and fret and worry over their prey. Predators don't try to make them feel better. Predators find the weakest one, the sickest one, the most injured, the weakest, the youngest- and they strike without remorse. Because food. Is food._

_Food. Is. Food.)_

Daniel clears his throat. It's been a while since he's sung. He inhales deeply of the human's scent, ignores the rotting, and focuses on that deep-seated desire of his.

It smells like the ache of sprouts stuck under the shade of trees, unable to grow to their fullest potential. It smells a bit like bittersweet citrus, of fruits that bite at the tongue despite how desired they are. It smells like the trees on the mountains he's flown over every winter, the scent strong and overpowering and inescapable if he chooses to fly lower to the treeline.

They weave together into a song as his feathers fluff up, and an ancient power quietly fills his chest up as easily as a single breath of air. 

_"Cherished beloved, come lay in my arms. I swear to you, there'll be no charms. No more visions of death and harm. Come to me, and together we'll rest. From here on out, I promise the best."_

The human jolts in his bed before sitting upright quickly. He turns to look at Daniel with eyes clouded over, _(eyes wide and hurt and broken and pained and the stench strengthens and makes him gag)_ and he utters a soft, "Davey?"

The name of his lost love. He has no idea how he looks to the human, but he can see the tears pooling in the corner of his eyes as his breathing staggers and he stumbles out of his nest. Daniel opens his arms in a welcoming manner as he backs out of the shack. A broken sob escapes the human as he struggles to his feet.

"No- don't, don't go! It's dangerous, please, come back, I-"

Dangerous? Daniel quickly stops his train of thought as he continues to sing. _"Follow me, my sweetest heart, and together at last, we'll make a new start."_

"Davey!" The human lurches forward and tries to grab Daniel, but he quickly leaps back and puts more distance between them. The sand sifts between his toes as the wind begins to pick up. Idly, he realizes that a storm is on its way. The human flinches as a gust of wind hits him, and he stares wild-eyed and desperate as he reaches for Daniel. "Davey, Davey, come back please, I'll protect you- please, come back here, I don't need anything else, I don't want anything else, so please, please-!"

Daniel keeps stepping back, and the waves crash against the back of his legs as the human freezes in place.

_(He's used to the ocean's angry whispers by now. That's what he tells himself, as the waves threaten to pull back further and further until they crash over him like a tidal wave. Except- except, there's something else in the whispers now too. A bitterness that he doesn't expect. A bitterness that borders on... dismay?)_

"...Don't." The whispered word leaves the human like a strangled gasp. He reaches for Daniel again as his eyes widen in a vision that Daniel can't see. "Don't go in."

In? Daniel looks behind him. The ocean is agitated, true, but it won't be for a few more minutes before the waves grow tall enough to sweep and pull him away from the beach. A wave crashes over his feet, pulling the sand out from under him as he adjusts his position to stay upright. But the movement is enough to elicit a scream from the human, and before he knows it, hands are grabbing his arm and he's being yanked forward and into something warm.

When did the human-!

They both stumble as the human falls backwards onto his ass, Daniel's face pressed flush against his chest as he braces himself with his hands on the wet sand. Daniel barely has a moment to lift his face away from the human when the brunette’s hands bury themselves in Daniel's hair and clothes. He's pressed tight and flush against the human as warm tears splash against his shoulder. 

This... feels familiar.

"Don't go in," the human whimpers out, "the forest is dangerous."

Forest?

The human keeps Daniel in his protective grip, nearly folding the siren into his arms as he curls over the blonde. "Please, I can't lose you again...!"

Rain begins to pour heavily from the heavens. Daniel looks down to where his talons can easily dig into the human's back. How he can sink his fangs into the human's neck and rip out a chunk of flesh that would leave the human's voice garbled and choking.

Daniel is a predator.

He is a predator.

And predators hunt the weakest of the group.

His mouth draws closer to the human's neck as the rain makes their bodies slick with moisture. The human clings to him tighter, exposing the junction between neck and shoulder to Daniel at a laughably tempting angle.

All he has to do is bite down.

That's all it takes to end his prey's life.

_(...That's all it takes to end it all.)_

"I love you," the human breathes against his shoulder, "I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again." The human's arm slides up the space between Daniel's wings and presses Daniel's head closer to his shoulder. "I swear it. I'll protect you this time."

Rain continues to pour around them. It soaks them to their core, the water sliding off his wings as they continue to sit on the rain soaked beach. Neither of them move as Daniel slowly brings his hands up to the human's shoulders. He doesn't push away, nor does he pull closer. Instead, his voice keeps up the illusion, despite the loss of that melodic beat he's been clinging to for his songs.

_"...Let's get inside."_

"...Okay."

Slowly, they untangle, but the human keeps a firm grip on Daniel's wrist as he leads them back into the shack. Once inside, the human leads him towards the fireplace and sits him down in front of it. A fire is started as the human wanders off, only to return with a single, thick fabric. Quietly, he uses it to dry Daniel's hair before draping it over his shoulders.

The brunette doesn't get one for himself.

Neither of them speak for a moment as the human sits down next to him. 

Neither of them move as the fire continues to fill the silence between with crackles and pops.

And neither of them acknowledge the lack of haze in the human's eyes.

Instead, they drown in the silence of their voices, the thought of food forgotten.

_(The stench of rot fills the air, and he ignores the clenching in his chest as the human hunches forward. He looks up towards the roof of the shack. Rain drips through a sizable crack._

_A leak._

_He focuses on the plip of the rain dripping through the crack._

_And ignores the plip of the salty tears dripping loudly onto the floor._

_It's the least he can do after what he's managed to do._

_...It's the least he can do after what he's failed to do.)_


	5. Slow Sort of Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quiet moments never sat too well with Jasper. Perhaps that’s why he finds himself discussing the art of cooking with the siren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does a little jig, didn't forget to update this time!

The shack is quiet. It's been quiet since that day on the beach. The siren barely makes a sound as he shuffles about the shack, slowly gutting a fish with his talons.

Jasper remains where he's curled up on the bed. It's... odd. Normally the blonde is huffing and grousing about Jasper's refusal to get up. On better days, they even have a semblance of conversation.

But...

The siren stabs a stick through the fish and lays it to roast by the fire. He grabs another and starts his work on the second fish. And all the while, he remains silent. 

He's been like this since the last time he's sung. Jasper remembers the vision clearly - David, smiling with arms held open for a hug, only to have the forest framing him from behind.

The same forest that killed and took David away from him.

It's strange, how comforting a siren's song can be. Jasper could reach out and grab David, save him from the forest and hold him close until the delusion ends. A dreamlike delusion that he wishes would never end. That's why he hopes the siren will sing again, just so he can hold David in his arms and pretend that everything is okay. That's why he hopes the siren will kill him before the delusion ends, before he's forced back into the reality where he failed his David. 

A reality in which the siren that's supposed to be preparing him to be a meal is... preparing him a meal. 

The warm breath against his neck that day was just a reminder of what could have been. He was more than ready for the siren to bite in and bring his miserable existence to an end.

But.

He didn't.

Instead, he pulled back and borrowed David's voice to suggest that they go inside. 

Since then, the siren hasn't spoken much but a few words a day. And now, they remain in silence as the fire's crackles fill the air. 

The silence is haunting. It reminds Jasper too much of empty cottages and pitying glances. He thought that maybe running to the ocean would fill his empty life up with constant noise. But no.

Here he is again.

The fire crackles, and Jasper's joints creak as he pushes himself up. The siren's wings shift a bit at the bed's creaks, but he doesn't turn to look at Jasper. Instead, he wraps his arms tight around his legs and stares deeply into the fire. Jasper settles down next to him and watches the fish roast.

The skin of the fish looks crispy as the siren reaches forward to pull it from the fire. He offers it wordlessly to Jasper as the other one cooks. Jasper takes the fish, his appetite nonexistent as he turns the stick between his fingers. Even without the feeling of eyes on him, he knows that the siren is waiting for him to take his first bite. Sort of like a reassurance, maybe, that Jasper is willing to ingest some food for the day. There are days when he can't bring himself to eat a sliver of food, and the siren doesn't leave until the next afternoon, only to return at night with some other creature he believes is edible. The blonde thought maybe roasted worms would do the trick, but all he did was burn the poor creatures. The smell of roasting worms however convinced Jasper to at least take a small bite of his food to calm the siren.

It's what he does now, taking a nibble of the roasted fish and wondering what kind it is. The siren used to tell him all sorts of names for the fish he takes back to Jasper. Now, he sits in silence and stares into the flames. Jasper sighs as he spins the fish between his fingers. He thinks he knows why the siren won't speak to him. It's how he refuses to look at Jasper, how his fingers twitch against his arms, how careful he is with his voice.

The quiet guilt reminds him of David, how the ginger would stare at his feet, shuffling nervously as he wrung his hands and bit his lip as he tried to find the right moment to say, "I'm sorry". Jasper takes a steadying breath.

The siren isn't David. No matter how much he resembles or reminds him of David.

And it's almost like instinct that Jasper knows what to say to get striking blue eyes to look at him.

"I'm not mad." Shock colors the siren's face as he looks to Jasper. "I'm really... not." And he's telling the truth. Because every time the siren sings, he gets one more moment with David.

One more chance to tell him sorry, to save him, to hold him in his arms.

For a handful of minutes, the siren lets Jasper live in a fantasy world where David is still here, still alive, and still so very vibrant. Like the trees he loved to dance under in the spring, or the grass they used to tumble over as children. Vibrant like the blooming flowers in the summer. Vibrant like the singing songbirds that lived in the forest.

Vibrant. Like red, silky hair and a smiling face dusted with freckles. Vibrant. Like the love they shared, turning every day into an endless summer of warmth and affection.

He takes a bite from his fish and notes the salty, wet taste. And he smiles.

"I'm not mad."

The siren studies him, a mix of emotions swirling in eyes not green, before uncertainty settles on his face.

"You... are a strange human."

"Yeah." Another bite. "I guess so."

"...You should be mad."

"I can't be." Jasper shakes his head, laughing hopelessly. "Your songs are the only way I can see Davey again and I- I guess I just have to take my chances."

The siren's eyes narrow. "Are you using me?"

"And aren't you?" Jasper gestures at his fish. "You're pretty much fattening me up. One of these days, you're gonna kill me for food. It's only fair that I take what I get."

"Which are my songs."

"Righto." It's only fair. If he has to die, he wants to do it in a fantasy where David holds him one last time. It doesn't matter anymore.

Nothing matters anymore.

"So what, this is... permission? To lure you out with my songs so that you can have your depraved little fantasy?"

"We already have a fucked situation, birdy." He gestures between them. "I'm your food. You help me see Davey. In the grand scheme of things, I think you still get to come out on top."

"Hmph." Despite his words, the siren looks oddly... irked. "That kind of talk will make you taste disgusting."

"...Excuse me?"

"What, you think feeding you fish is how I make your flesh taste better? Please." The siren rolls his eyes as he tugs a wing around him, talons running through his feathers carefully as he gets comfortable. "There's more reason to luring humans with temptatious bait than just easily catching humans. It's the emotions, the feelings that surge through you. The way that you are right now, you'd taste no better than the sand collected in clams."

"Wow." Jasper scoffs and tosses his fish at the blonde. The blonde snaps it out of the air and growls at Jasper, no doubt annoyed that Jasper would try and waste the food. "Tell me more about how nasty I'd taste, please. It really does wonders for my sense of self."

"Think of it like this-"

"I didn't actually mean it-"

"-take, for instance, this fish." He holds it up for Jasper to see. "It's fine by itself, but the black nasty bits here," he points to the burnt skin, "are awful to taste. Siren songs are like that fire," he points once more to the flames, "meant to add a little something more to the fish. But all it's doing to you now is turning bits of you black and distasteful." Nevertheless, the siren pulls the fish off and drops the entire thing into his maw, chomping down noisily before swallowing it quickly. 

"Can't you just, remove the burnt bits?" Jasper watches as the siren takes out the remaining fish and shoves it into Jasper's hand. He holds it, but doesn't eat. "Then you wouldn't taste the bad parts."

"That's wasting food, and you know how I feel about that." The siren looks at the food and to Jasper, huffing when he doesn't take a bite. "And seeing how my songs are... turning you bad, I'd rather not sing anymore."

"Okay but, consider this." He takes a bite to appease the siren and keep his attention. "The fire also makes food good... if you're careful with it. Maybe, if you're more careful with your songs, it could help me rather than hurt me."

The siren blinks. Considers. And frowns.

"And how would that work?"

"...What if I asked?"

"...Asked?"

"Yeah." It's a long shot in the dark. But, but. He closes his eyes shut, and he can see David's face so, so clearly. "It wouldn't be sudden, or surprising. I'd expect it. It wouldn't be as bad." He opens his eyes and stares at the fire in front of them. "The flames won't be so bad if we both watch them."

"I..." The siren pauses, looking everywhere but at Jasper. "I'll.. think about it."

"Alright." It's not like he can force the siren. It wouldn't sit right with Jasper. But at least he gave it a shot. "Just... it's fine. To sing around me. Like that. If you want."

The fire crackles as they sit in silence. Jasper manages two more bites before giving up. The siren takes the fish and eats it slowly. Finally, with the stick clean, he gets up, wings slowly curling around him.

"Get some rest." The siren avoids looking at Jasper as he walks towards the door. "I'll be back in the morning."

"...Okay." The door closes with a bang, and Jasper is left alone in the shack.

The fire crackles as he sits in silence, and he hugs his knees to his chest.

Alone.

Again.


	6. Familiar Unruly Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Daniel paces and frets over these turn of events, another denizen of the sea reminds him that he’s not the only dweller living by the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALL caught up now let's see if I can finally push out a new chapter

The sea is calm tonight. The waves crash lightly against his rocks as he sits quietly under the light of the moon, wings spread around him to protect from the cold winds. A whisper in the wind presents him with a question: why is he upset? To which Daniel growls and thinks that no, he's not upset! The human wants to be his meal, he wants him to sing, he's a willing participant in his own death. This should make Daniel happy - ecstatic, even! He shouldn't feel these conflicting- no. Confusing- no! He shouldn't be feeling anything but _full_! 

_(The ocean's spray gently splatters against his wings. "Be calm," it seems to say. But he's going against his nature- his instincts! Surely the ocean would understand, but it can't. Because it's not as if the ocean cared for his woes to begin with. The ocean doesn't care for his kind. It hates his kind. He knows this.)_

He stands up abruptly and screeches into the night. It makes no sense. It makes no sense! Food is food. He can't suddenly be picky - he was raised better! When food was scarce, when his mother couldn't find the worms, the fish, the crabs, the birds, the anything - she showed him and his nest mates what magic their voices could do. They were stronger than birds, more hypnotizing than mermaids, and they could breathe in the desires of mankind.

 _"Food,"_ she said, running her talons through his feathers as she preened him, _"is food. When winter comes and you find yourself alone, you'll understand then, little chick."_

That was ages ago. And her words still ring true. So he shouldn't be picky. He shouldn't be hesitating. And yet. And yet!

_(The human's eyes are filled with so much anguish; just looking into his dull eyes feels like a wave crashing down on Daniel. But his feathers don't save him, and he's drowning in turbulent blues as he struggles to breach.)_

He should just eat the human. Get it over with. Who cares if he tastes terrible? Who cares if his song will make him taste like ashy bitterness? Who cares if he smells like rot the entire time?

_(Who cares if he'll never see what those blue eyes look like when they sparkle like Daniel's beloved sea? Who cares if he'll never know who this mystery Davey is? Who cares if the shack becomes empty and cold, and the beach becomes silent as he sits on his rock, alone, like he's always been?_

_Like he's always meant to be?_

_No one likes sirens, after all._

_Not even the sea.)_

He screeches again, the shrill cry piercing the cold air as no one comes to investigate. Not even the ocean answers his cries as he paces about the rock's surface. Daniel was never this indecisive. There's no reason why he should be convincing himself to eat the human. He shouldn't _need_ to convince himself to eat the human! Why is he being so difficult?!

A splash is the only warning he gets before a mischievous bark startles him out of his thoughts. Grumbling, he gets on his knees and looks over the edge of his rock. A seal blinks back at him, a curious smile on her face. Another bark erupts from her as her eyes shine with knowledge.

 _You're being awfully noisy tonight_ , she seems to say.

"Damn you," he growls, swiping his talons at her. She ducks under the waves and pops up on the other side of his rock. "Mind your own business! Why are you here anyways?!"

She tries to climb onto his rock, but he shoves her back into the sea with great effort. Her head pops back up from the waves, staring at him with her big, round eyes. He stomps on his rock, wings fanned out and held high above his head as he hisses at her.

"My rock." He stomps again. "Mine! Go find your own!"

She snorts. Treads water idly before splashing water at Daniel. He yelps and hisses again. How the ocean favors _them_ over sirens is beyond him. Quickly, he slaps the ocean to splash her back. She merely lets out a bark of a laugh before ducking under the water. A splash from behind gets his attention as the ocean waves crash higher onto his rock. As the waves pull back, a young looking woman sits calmly in front of him, a fur coat wrapped tightly around her as she pushes the hood off her head, revealing hair the oddest shade of red. He squawks and stomps his foot angrily.

"I told you to get your own rock!"

"Oh hush." The selkie smiles as she settles on his rock, her accent softening her tone as she wraps her skin securely around her. "I was visitin’ my old man when we heard you screechin' up a storm. Hard to enjoy a good fish when you're soundin’ like a murdered lil pup."

"I'm not a pup." He folds his arms and narrows his eyes. "And I'm clearly alive, so get off my rock and leave."

"Hmm." The selkie hums as the ocean whispers softly. Daniel's feathers fluff out in embarrassment as her eyes grow large with amusement. "The ocean tells me you’re conflicted."

"Nonsense!" He glares at the ocean. Of course it would say that. Make the selkie believe that she has any right to know about his little... dilemma. "The ocean doesn't know _shit_ about my emotions."

"The ocean knows more than you’d like to believe." The selkie chuckles as she kicks playfully at the waves. "And judgin’ by your screechin’ earlier, I'm inclined to believe the ocean has every right to tell me that."

"You can't believe everything you hear." He harrumphs and looks away from the selkie. "Sometimes the ocean lies too."

_(Like how the ocean once told him that it loved him too. What a foolish little chick he was back then.)_

"So then, the ocean is lyin’ when it says that you’re carin’ for a human?" Oh, so there was more to her coming here than to invade his territory and harass him. Of course she'd be interested in the human. 

"I'm not caring for him, I'm preparing him."

"Preparin’ him?"

"Yes." He turns back to grin, flashing his sharp fangs as she watches him unfazed. "He's going to be the most scrumptious meal I've had in moons."

"Is that so?"

"Of course, why wouldn't that be?"

"Sirens don't prepare their meals." The selkie hums thoughtfully as she stares out towards the beach. "Sirens _devour_ their meals. I'd know."

"Oh please," he huffs, ignoring how her eyes harden a bit when she turns back to look at him. "You only know of _one_ human that I've tried to eat, and I've stopped trying to lure your human, haven't I? Old humans are too tough to chew and taste too dry."

"Hmhm." As she continues to rest on his rock, the urge to push her off resurfaces. Selkies are so annoying. "If that's what you say, then why aren't you devouring that young one in the lil hut?"

"First of all, it's called a _shack_ ," he ignores her amused hum and lowers his wings, "and second of all, I already told you that I'm preparing him."

"And yet here you are screechin’ your lungs out."

"Preparing food is hard."

"So I've been told." She stretches and gets more comfortable on his rock. "Why is this one so hard for you though?"

"It's just- ugh, you wouldn't understand." 

"Try me." She pulls her knees against her chest and rests her chin on them. "My old man's taught me a thing or two ‘bout food preparation. Lil ol’ tricks to make things tastier."

Daniel rolls his eyes as he puts his hands on his hips. "Sprinkling dried leaves over him will not make his flesh taste better. I've already tried that with other humans."

Her hand reaches up to muffle her laugh as she shakes her head. "That's not what I mean. You sirens use your songs to... flavor them better or somethin’?"

"Yes yes, don't make me explain it again." He paces about his rock, knowing full well that she's watching his every move. "But my song isn't doing that to him. It's only making him worse. Yet he asks for me to sing some more regardless. Maybe he knows that I won't eat him if he tastes terrible?" Except Daniel's eaten worse, so why is he being picky? Why why why _why_?

"Hmm. May I offer a suggestion?" 

He halts in his pacing to look to the selkie, an aggrieved sigh already leaving him as she giggles. "You? You're a selkie, what would you know about human meat?"

Another laugh escapes her as she shakes her head. "Lil pup-"

"For the last time, I'm not a pup-"

"-maybe, you’re missing a lil somethin’ in your songs."

"Missing a little something?" He narrows his eyes. "Explain carefully."

She shrugs as she relaxes against his rock. "Maybe your songs are too shallow."

"...Shallow?" He scoffs once. Twice. And then thrice as he stomps his foot and juts his wings forward. "My songs get to the CORE of human desire. They are beautiful and melodic and FANTASTIC to listen to! As if you have any right to call my songs _shallow_ , Ms. Oh Look At Me, I'm a Selkie, Hear Me Sing!" He sucks in a deep breath and tilts his head back as he pulls a guttural sound out from deep within. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" He snaps his head back forward and yells angrily. "That's what your singing sounds like! It's terrible and how dare you call my songs shallow!"

A howl of laughter forces the selkie forward onto her knees, an arm wrapped around her stomach as she fails to calm herself. Daniel squawks angrily and stomps his foot once more. "Stop laughing! I just insulted you!"

The selkie gasps for breath as she struggles to sit back up, giggles still escaping her as she wipes her eyes. "Oh, oh Daniel, that was fantastic, you'd make for a lovely seal-"

"I would _not_ -"

"-but that's not what I meant completely." With another stretch, she regards Daniel in a quiet fashion as his wings are pulled back against his back. "What I meant was, maybe you're missin’ somethin’ important to your human's... what do you call them? A human's desire?"

"Yes, their desires." He folds his arms. "What do you mean, 'missing'?"

"Simply put, you must be missin’ somethin’ key to the human's desire. You've barely breached the surface, I think, and the only way for your song to... work well with him is to better understand him."

Daniel nods for a moment, before shaking his head and staring at her accusingly. "Why are you helping me? I thought you _liked_ humans."

"I like _some_ humans." She shrugs as she pulls her hood back over her head. "But I also like havin’ my meals in peace ‘n quiet. Maybe my bit o’ advice will be enough to calm you down a bit."

"If I want to make a fuss, I will do so." At his declaration, the selkie merely rolls her eyes as she dips her feet into the waves.

"What a mighty fine pup you are."

"I'm not-" Before he can finish his sentence, the selkie dips into the ocean softly. A moment passes before a seal pops her head up from waves and barks a quick goodbye. Without waiting for an answer, she quickly swims back to the fisherman's shack not too far from the human's shack, leaving Daniel alone with his thoughts.

He refuses to get over how... willing she was to offer him, of all creatures, advice on how to make the human _taste better_. Get to know him? As if. Daniel doesn't plan on "getting to know" his prey.

_(That would be a mistake, after all.)_

But... He thinks back to the fish, with the edges of it tasting like a bitterness that was barely palatable. And he thinks back to the human, who's desire only seems to hurt him more and more, and of the stench of rot that grows stronger by the day.

Songs can be improved. They can be better sung, better made. Better reflect the desire his prey holds. He doesn't normally do this, spending so much time thinking about his prey.

_(He's only done it once, after the fact of course. But the flavor lingered for days in his mouth, and he could never forget those parting words that had him avoiding humans for a good season or two.)_

Daniel sits on his rock and reconsiders the selkie's words.

No, he won't get to know the human better. He refuses to do that. But.

Perhaps, he'll simply find a way to better understand the human's desire. It's only in his nature to be curious, after all.

And the human's desire matches up wonderfully with his curiosity. He smiles to himself as he eyes the human's shack from his rock.

Yes, it's about time he get himself more acquainted with the human’s desire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh it's my favorite girl!! here she is again!!! you know it's a scrib fic when i insert good ol' clementine!!!


	7. Receding Tides that Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unwanted memories continue to force themselves to the forefront of Jasper’s mind, until he’s reminded that he can uncover the ones worth recalling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slowly but SURELY i'm gonna get back in the groove of posting a new chapter each friDAY

The waves of the ocean push and pull against the sand of the beach, taking and removing and replacing as it goes. He wears a smile so familiar that it almost feels wrong. "Nice day, huh, Davey?"

David sits besides him on the beach, looking off into the distance. There's no smile on his face and that, that immediately feels _wrong_. Wordlessly, he cups his lover's face and has those familiar green eyes so full of life look towards him instead. David blinks, eyes searching his face before a soft smile graces his features. "Yeah, it is."

"Never thought we'd be here in a million years." With a grin, Jasper presses his forehead against David's. "But here we are. Just like we promised."

"Yeah..." For some reason, David looks away, his smile dropping off his face as he sighs. He pulls away from Jasper but keeps a hand firmly on the brunette's. "I guess this just- this isn't what I had in mind."

"What do you mean?" Something's wrong. A nervous laugh bubbles past Jasper's lips. "This is everything we've wanted for ages."

"Jasp." David looks deeply into Jasper's eyes, his own eyes reflecting the forest in their color. Reflecting. "I love you so much."

A fear rises up from within as he answers back. "I love you too," he says desperately. Desperately like. Desperately like his time with David is slipping away like. Sand? Slipping away like sand? 

"I know." Tears spill from David's eyes as they fall into the tides pulling at them. Pulling them away. Pulling him away. Jasper looks down and finds himself still on the beach.

But David's not here.

He's not _here_. 

"David?" He scrambles up, and the ocean pulls at him. Waves crash over his feet and over his calves as it climbs higher and higher until he's waist deep in sea water, and he looks over at David and David's _not on the beach_. He's standing on grass and dirt as his eyes reflect the forest he stands in, and he's crying. He's crying and he's crying and they're crying and who's crying? Who's crying if the ocean is splashing salt against his face and the rain washes it away like an accident he wants to _forget_?

Red drips from ginger hair as David stands in the forest, claw marks deep in his chest and gashes tearing at his limbs and his eyes reflect the forest, they are the forest, and he's still in the forest, he's still in the forest and the ocean is pulling Jasper away no matter hard he fights against the waves and David is crying with tears mixing with blood as he closes his eyes and Jasper opens his mouth to scream, but he inhales the ocean's tears itself as his cries bubble past his lips and into the ocean itself, and he cries and the ocean cries and David cries despite being not here.

The ocean pulls at him as it pushes David away. It grabs and it takes and Jasper just.

Lets himself sink. Until all he can breathe is salty water as he drowns and he drowns and he _drowns_.

And then he wakes up to the sound of a thunderous crash.

"Human, get up!" A familiar voice crows loudly as he flinches at the call. "The sun is out for once!" His blanket is pulled off as sunlight makes its presence known behind his closed eyes. He groans as he tries to rub the remains of his dream away.

Wet.

"Mggh," he groans. "Let me sleep."

"No." Taloned hands grab his shoulders as he's pulled up. "I- uh." A slight pause catches the siren's voice as Jasper blearily opens his eyes. As his eyes focus on the blonde in front of him, he sees what looks to be... concern? Flit across the siren's expression for just a second. And then it's gone. "...I heard that humans also require a bit of sunlight to remain sane. And it will help better your mood."

"I don't think a bit of sunlight is going to make me feel better."

"It will warm you up." The siren tugs at Jasper's arm and forces him out of bed. "And it's not often I get to lounge on the beach simply for the act of warming my feathers."

"You can do it without me." Jasper tugs his arm out of the siren's hold, but the siren merely grabs him back and pulls him towards the door. "Hey- come on-"

"No." The siren doesn't look back as he drags Jasper out onto the sunny beach. "I need to catch fish anyways, and you can wait in the sun while I do so."

"I'll burn."

"Humans don't burn in sunlight. I'm not believing that lie again." 

"...Again?" However, Jasper isn't graced with an answer as the siren sits him down on the beach. The cool breeze ruffles his hair lightly as Jasper squints in the sunlight. He... didn't think that the sun would peek through the normally overcast sky. Or that it even could. He watches as the siren takes off with a sprint towards the waves, nearly skipping over the water like the rocks he used to toss with David back when-

He watches as the siren skips over the waves before flapping his gray wings and lifting off into the sky. It's almost graceful how the siren sweeps through the air, gaining altitude as he soars higher and higher, circling the waves for a moment before dipping down low enough to submerge his arm. The siren flies with a slight tilt before bringing his arm back up, a fish gripped tightly in his grasp before he flies towards a familiar rocky outcrop. Jasper squints once more, this time to try and see what the siren is doing in the distance. The arm holding the fish is raised high in the air before slamming it down against the rock.

Oh. So that's how he kills his fish. A part of him wonders if... that's how one properly kills a fish. But before he can wonder for much longer, the siren flies back to Jasper, dead fish in hand as he lands before the brunette. "Stay there," he growls, pointing the fish at Jasper before heading towards the little shack.

"I can cook it myself, you know," he calls out. The siren ignores him as he leaves Jasper alone with his thoughts. Which... isn't ideal.

The waves brush against his legs lightly, and memories of his dream begin to take root. Or rather, "nightmare". The image of David, bloodied and crying, remains imprinted in his mind as he takes a shaky breath. Tracks of tears were evident on his face when Jasper and the others found him that day. David must have been in so much pain, so much fear. So much anguish. The thought of David crying with no one to comfort him in his final moments added to the cracks upon cracks in his heart that led to its shattering. 

He couldn't wipe away David's tears in time.

He couldn't stop all the bleeding in time.

He couldn't be there for David in time.

And so wouldn't it make sense for Jasper's final, lasting impression of David to be that of when Jasper had managed to fail him so horribly? Every promise made and given to soothe and comfort were broken in one fell swoop. 

It's impossible to forget that wide-eyed, pained, horrified look on David's face. The blood. The wounds and torn flesh and broken bones. How the stench of it all permeated the air. It was too much, simply too much to bear, and yet Jasper can never get that image of David out of his mind long enough to pull himself together-

"I don't think humans are meant to breathe like that." A steadying hand lands on his shoulder as he is jolted from his thoughts. The siren's frown deepens as he turns Jasper to face him. "Hey, there's enough air for everyone, stop breathing so much."

"I-" Jasper wheezes as the siren squeezes his shoulders. "I don't-"

"Do I need to teach you how to breathe as well?" With a roll of his eyes, the siren kneels down in front of Jasper. "It's easy. Follow my lead." The siren breathes much slower than the quick gasps that Jasper takes. Jasper tries to follow, he really does, but it's hard to follow when he curls forward and continues to inhale much too quickly for either of their likings. "Oh for- look." The siren forces Jasper's eyes to meet his as the siren inhales and holds. He slowly releases that breath and gives Jasper a pointed look. A hand is raised just over his mouth, as if the threat of suffocation is enough to calm him down. However, the siren doesn't need to make good on his silent threat as Jasper forces himself to hold his breath for a few seconds and releases.

It takes a minute.

Then two.

And when the third makes its rounds, Jasper's breathing has calmed and leveled out. Quietly, he rests his forehead on his knees as the siren backs off.

"...What was that all about?"

Jasper shrugs.

"At least you're breathing slower now." A pause. "No but really, what WAS that all about?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh sure, let's not address the fact that you were suffocating on air." The siren huffs as he moves to sit next to Jasper. "Yes, let's pretend that you aren't crying and that you look distressed and that I had to teach you how to breathe again in exchange for some poorly forced ignorance."

Jasper rubs at his face irritably. "It's not like telling you will change anything."

"So you say." The siren begins to scoop and form the sand in front of him into a little pile. "But saying nothing will guarantee that nothing will change. And I would rather understand what set you off so badly, just so I know how to deal with it in the future."

"Shouldn't you be planning on eating me?"

"Oh, I am." The siren flattens the pile with the palm of his hand. "I don't find crying prey to be very tasteful."

"Right." Again with the taste thing. "And telling you will make me taste better because...?"

"Because then you'll be ridding yourself of foul tastes. Slowly, of course." The siren shrugs. "Of course, it's up to you. I can't force words out of you."

"Mmm." Tell the siren. Or don't. He's not sure which of the two are the better choice. On one hand, this sort of heaviness isn't something he'd normally want to impart on someone he hardly knows.

But on the other hand... he's going to be eaten by the siren regardless. What would it matter to tell him his woes, if only to speed up the process? He'd be dead anyways, and it won't be as though his words will haunt him after he's dead. And maybe... 

Maybe he wants to share his woes with someone who won't give a shit about him after all is said and done. He doesn't want pity or sympathy. He doesn't want any more sad eyes and comforting pats. The siren's cold stare settles on him and thinks that maybe, just maybe, this is what he needs to share his story freely.

"...I had a nightmare." He watches as the siren directs his stare to the ocean and appreciates the gesture just a little. "It was about my... lover. Davey."

"You've called me that name a few times."

"Yeah." He pauses to see if the siren will add anything, but he doesn't. Nothing about how Jasper constantly chases after that shadow the siren creates, or the desperation in his movements as he grabs him. Nothing is said as the waves brush closer to their feet. "He, um- my last memory of him was when he... died. And I get nightmares of the moment I found him. It shakes me to my core, and I can never get the image out of my head. I just... live with this final memory of him, and it haunts me in my sleep and in my waking moments. I guess today was a bit worse than usual." He chuckles humorlessly as he focuses his gaze on the receding waves. 

"...So you only remember that final moment of him?" The siren's tone is oddly cautious, but it never strays too close for comfort. "Only that bad memory of him?"

"I can't help it." He hugs his knees close to his chest. "It's the only thing I can remember."

"Not even the happy ones?"

He blinks. "I... I don't know."

"Pathetic." A pause. "You're a disgrace to his memory if you don't even try."

A huff. "Why do you care?"

"I don't," the siren replies simply. "But I don't want to constantly prevent you from dying due to too much breathing before I can eat you."

"I don't think that's possible."

"I don't care to test the possibility." The siren flashes him a smirk before settling on his stomach. His wings stretch out on the sand, one of them brushing up behind Jasper as the blonde releases a content sigh. "Tell me things about this Davey or whatever."

"...Why?"

"To help you remember, obviously." The siren rolls his eyes before closing them languidly. "If you can only remember that bad memory without even trying to remember the good ones, then you'll only continue to fail at being alive."

Irritation starts to prick at Jasper. "And so you want me to just tell you things about Davey."

"Only the happy things." Waves brush up against the siren's arms as he rests his chin on them. "And maybe then you'll start to expel all those nasty scents from your being."

"Hmph." Petulance has him quickly huffing out, "And if I say no?"

"Then I won't eat you, you nasty glob of fish shit."

"I'm starting to think that I hate you."

"Boohoo, I love you too." A pause. "Love to eat you, that is."

"Hard to tell." Still. He sighs as he glances at the siren's smirk. The damn bird man had a point. The faster he appeals to the siren's palette, the faster he can join David in the afterlife. 

And.

It's not like. It's not like he's ever really... opposed to talking about David before. There was always so much to say about the other man. How his laugh sounded like the epitome of happiness, so light and carefree and gentle and kind. Not a hint of mockery to be found. Or that David was so incredibly gentle to all around him, be it a woodland creature or an angry child threatening bodily harm. The way David could pluck a tune out from the sounds of the forest and create a little ditty to sing to Jasper when they were alone together. 

Good things. Happy things. So really, the question was and always has been: how to start?

"Davey... always liked being surrounded by nature." He remembers a bright smile and tugging hands as David led him out on a quick venture through the woods. "He could tell the difference between all the birds we came across, could point out which berries were the ripest at just a glance, and always seemed eager to climb a tree or two." A fond laugh escapes him as he remembers a dazzling pair of green eyes more vibrant than the newly grown leaves. 

"But as much as he loved the forest, he was always so eager to explore new places. Once, we went along with some townspeople to help with the trades - just some heavy lifting and shit. The town we traveled to was one so alike yet different from this one. It was bigger, and a few boats were moored by the shore. And somehow, David fell in love with the sights, the smells, the cool breezes, and the gray skies. I thought it was weird, that someone so sunny would love a sky so gloomy. But I guess he related to it, in a way." A young boy with an angry glare stands out in his memory. Perhaps a part of that stormy young boy still remained in David throughout the years. Maybe that was what made him see the cloudy skies overcast and believe it was a sight worth living for. Because there was always a spot of sunlight hiding behind the clouds. And when that spot of light finally broke through?

The warmth was unimaginable. 

"We spent so much time at the beach. There were animals we hadn't seen before, birds that David couldn't identify, foods we never tasted before. The trees weren't in abundance, but David didn't care. This was something new, something different. And he loved it." He can see the man now, standing with his back to Jasper as the wind ruffled those ginger locks he loved to comb his fingers through. A bright, excited look in his eyes as he turned back with a grin and called out, _"Jasp!"_. How he'd reach for Jasper with that tender look in his eyes as their fingers interlocked perfectly and he'd breathe out a simple, _"Yeah?"_

And everything had felt right in the world at that moment.

"He was so ready to embrace and start a new life. And I was going to be right there with him when he started it. He was... my entire world. And every smile and laugh and kiss I could draw from him made my world brighter." 

The smile on his face almost feels foreign. Like he forgot that he could pull the corners of his mouth upwards instead of downwards. But it's there, as small as it is. 

"...He sounds. Disgustingly sweet. And enthusiastic." Despite the backhanded compliment, the siren makes an attempt at being nice. "He sounds as though he made you happy."

"He did." Water rushes up to pull at the sand beneath his feet. "I just hope that I made him happy too."

"Who knows, maybe." The siren's next words come out muffled as he half buries his face against his arms. "Did he have a never-ending wave of flattering comments like you have for him? Or was this completely one-sided?"

"It wasn't one-sided," Jasper snorts. "And I'm sure he talked about me a lot." Jasper hesitates for a moment, remembering the feel of gentle, freckled hands cupping his face and pressing a forehead against his. A whispered compliment rises from his memories as those eyes that reflected the forest stared deeply, fondly into his own. "...He always liked to say that he loved the color of my eyes."

"They're blue. So are mine. You're not special." The siren waves his hand idly towards Jasper. "By the way, you should eat your fish. It might be burnt by now." Jasper's about to protest when he feels a sharp pain in his stomach. 

...Right. Well, maybe indulging in a bite or two wouldn't hurt. He leaves the siren wordlessly to grab the roasting fish in the shack. As he pulls it from the fire (only mildly burnt - not quite as bad as he assumed it would be), he looks out to the ocean's waves as they threaten to crash over what looks to be the siren's gradually napping form.

And he remembers eyes that reflected the forest.

A deep, vibrant green, just like the forest.

His fingers stray up to the corners of his eyes as he thinks back to David's love of the sea, and his love for Jasper.

And quietly, he wonders.

...What did David see reflected in the eyes that he loved so much?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One way to properly killing a fish humanely = stunning i.e. bonking them really hard over the head. Daniel is not engaging in proper stunning etiquette probably, but he does the best with what he has, which is just a really big rock he likes to perch on.


	8. Reflected like Sunlight Against the Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting the human to do what needs to be done is harder than Daniel realizes. But each part of the process takes steps. And he’s willing to put forth the effort, so long as it gets him the results he needs, however long it takes.

It's not often that the sun comes out. But it's very often that it disappears back behind the clouds without a single word. Routine returns without another word. And not another word is mentioned as they settle back into fish and silence and the ever lingering darkness that follows with the changing of the seasons.

Daniel finds that he doesn't enjoy the silence that much anymore. But words are hard to coax out. Hard to lure out when he's scrabbling for a purchase as the human stares at him blankly from where he resides. He doesn't know too much about humans. Doesn't really want to get too close to them.

_(A lie and a half.)_

But now he's starting to... feel a little concerned. No, not worried, of course not. But he's a little concerned. Because the sun, or what little of the sun he used to see, is dipping down below the horizon faster and faster. There's a chill in the air that he can finally feel. A warning. He watches as the gulls around him begin to dwindle in number, their little eyes looking at him with a mild curiosity as he remains. A whisper draws his attention, but he pays the sea no mind. It's been awfully calm lately, strangely calm. But he doesn't have time to question the sea and why it decides to whisper instead of yell. There's more important things to consider.

For instance, if Daniel makes his seasonal trip to the warmer waters, where other humans are more likely to be easier meals, would the human here still be alive for him to feed when he returns?

Will the human remember to feed himself?

Will the human be able to care for himself?

Difficult, difficult questions that should not be questions.

On one hand, he could perhaps ask the selkie for a favor. Her little human lover could be of help. Maybe feed the human while he's away. He can even suggest which winter fishes to feed the human in order to satisfy his nearly nonexistent palette. And because she's a selkie, she's less than likely to show herself around the human. 

But... she's also a _selkie_. A selkie who finds humans such curious creatures, despite her natural instinct suggesting she stay the fuck away from them. No no, it seems more so that her friendly nature wins out every time, and that's what keeps her from completely leaving her lover behind. Not only that, but her playful nature would make her _endearing_ , which would make her _convincing_. Maybe she'd even convince the human to crave life instead of death! Awful, really.

No. He cannot depend on the selkie for help. She'd never leave him alone if he asked her lover to call her for help. And the old fool would oblige, because of course he would. Years and years of obsessing over eating the human managed to endear the siren to the old fisherman, when the old man should have felt fear instead. Daniel groans and rubs at his face. Humans make no sense. They should be fearing him - a siren! He's their natural predator. But of course not. He has one old fisherman that waves to him when he sits on his rock, and another human that practically begs for Daniel to eat him. An involuntary shudder shakes his feathers, and he finds himself fluffing himself out to better keep himself warm.

The weather is growing colder. And that means he has to leave soon. Which means...

Which means he needs to convince the human to take care of himself while he's gone.

He stands up, wings spread wide as he dashes across the waves and beats his wings for added momentum. Even as his feet touches the sand, he keeps up his pace and aims for the door. Just as he's about to tackle the door with the full force of his body, the door opens.

Goddammit.

A loud grunt greets him as he and the human crash and tumble onto the ground. Daniel squawks in shock as he pulls away from the tangle of limbs he finds himself in. The human takes longer to sit up, groaning as he rubs his head and shoots a half-assed glare at Daniel.

"Really?" Annoyed words leave the human as he continues to sit in place. "You got tired of kicking my door in, so now you wanna start slamming into me instead?"

"I didn't know you were going to open the door!" Daniel points at the empty bed and glares back. "Normally, I have to struggle to get your ass up and about! What made you suddenly decide to get up now?!" 

"Well, I heard you coming and thought, 'Gee, maybe I should just invite him in instead of letting him break my door,' and what do I get for trying to be polite? An aching back and a puffed out siren."

Daniel grumbles as he tries to relax, pulling his wings back close to his body. "I didn't ask you to open the door."

"Yeah, well, I shoulda realized that sirens don't have manners."

"I have manners!"

"In a manner of speaking." The human ignores his outraged cry and stands up to stretch. Looking around, the human tilts his head to the side and blinks slowly. "What? No fish?"

"No." Daniel gets up and dusts himself off as he remembers why he came here in the first place. "I can't keep feeding you like this. You need to take care of yourself."

"Stellar idea." The human turns on his heel and begins crawling back into his bed. "I'm going to take care of myself by never waking up."

Irritation creeps through Daniel as he clears his throat. It's not his favorite thing to do, but it's the only thing that works. " _You can't keep doing this_ -" He hesitates for a moment, realizing he doesn't even know the human's name. However, the gentle tone and higher pitch is enough to get the human to freeze in place. " _I wish you'd take care of yourself... It makes me so sad seeing you like this._ "

"Dave..." The human slowly turns to Daniel, tears in his eyes. "Davey." 

Their eyes meet for a moment. The smell of heartbreak grows stronger by the minute, and Daniel heaves a sigh through his nose as he drops the voice. "He'd want you to take care of yourself."

"Y... no, why do you care?"

"I can't be around to feed you all the time." He crosses his arms as the human sits on his bed. The brunette's head droops as he focuses his gaze on the wooden floor. "You need to start feeding yourself. Or at least, attempt to care for yourself. Maybe that will change your attitude enough to make me want to eat you." 

"I do want to get eaten."

"Then fucking eat. Or do I need to teach you how to do that too?"

"No, absolutely not." The human's face scrunches up as he thinks. "Do sirens do that thing that birds do to feed their babies? Davey told me once that they uhhh, digest food and then spit it back up into their kids' mouths."

"I can show you, it's quite easy actually-"

"Nononononono, absolutely NOT." He stands up quickly and waves his hands in front of him. "You already tried to shove worms into my mouth, I do NOT need bird spit up in my mouth instead!"

"It's actually more complex than that. Look, it's easier if I just show you-"

"Hey, how about we start working on that 'feeding myself' thing, yeah? Instead of you puking up your last meal to 'show me' or whatever."

"I was going to show you one of these days, since you insist on acting like a little chick." Daniel smirks as the human gags. "Little chicky food for the little chicky baby."

"Gross!"

"I'll be happy to resort to it if you insist on making me continue to feed you."

"I'd rather eat the worms, thanks."

"How about I get some right now, just so you have the chance?"

"No, keep your dirty worms to yourself." As the human continues to cringe, Daniel takes a closer look around the one-roomed shack. The fisherman uses a fishing pole or whatever to catch his meals. He looks around and spies nothing of the sort. Actually, the more he looks around, the more he realizes that the human simply has... nothing. There's a bowl or two, sure, the roasting sticks, some logs of wood that the human must have dragged from somewhere, a single plate, a knife that's duller than his talons, and old, drying fish scales littering the floor.

There's nothing in here. Nothing but a bed and a human and a sad excuse of a living space. Even Daniel's cave looks more luxurious than this travesty!

"...How did you feed yourself before I came here?"

"Uhh." The human looks around at his empty shack and shrugs. "I traded most of my things away."

"...Why?"

"I didn't have a use for them anymore." The brunette rubs his arm slowly, as if the reality of his home begins to dawn on him. "I mean, I kept a few bare essentials. But I was considering trading the bowls for something too before you came here. I don't have money. Everything I arrived with is gone to someone else. And..." He shrugs as he looks at Daniel. "It's not like I had anything worth keeping."

_(A painful thought tries to surface, but Daniel shoves it down. Not here. Not now. He doesn't want to... relate.)_

"So," he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "you have nothing to get you more food. No tools, no money, nothing of worth."

The human hesitates. "Well..." He kneels beside his bed and carefully pulls out an object.

An... instrument? Daniel's seen those before, on ships that would pass by in the warmer waters. He's never seen one so up close before. The human strokes the instrument gently, refusing to look up as he gazes at it almost wistfully.

The scent of rot almost... lightens as he sighs.

"This belonged to Davey. It's the only thing I have left."

"Can you play it?"

"What?" The human looks up in surprise as Daniel settles down in front of him.

"I said, can you play it?"

"I-" He glances between the instrument and Daniel as the blonde focuses his attention on the instrument in front of him. It looks to have... many strings on it. He loses count after the tenth or so string. But the body of the instrument reminds him of a drop of water, and that's enough to have him tilting his head in interest.

"Play it?"

"I don't uh, I don't know how."

"Unbelievable. Fingers are wasted on you."

"You have fingers too!"

"Yes, with talons." He flexes his hands out in front of the human to emphasize his point. "I can't make music with my hands like you humans can. Only with my voice." A little bit of bitterness enters his voice as his wings slowly curl around his sides. "My songs would be perfect with a bit of instrumental backing."

"You really care about your songs being perfect."

"Of course!" He puffs his chest out proudly as he smirks at the human. "It's how I lure desperate idiots like you to become my meals."

_(And it's how he passes the time. How he fills the emptiness all around him with something. Fills the air with nonsensical noise so that he doesn't feel alone. Drowns out the ocean's cries and the faint whispers from his memories. It's all he has. It's all he's ever had.)_

"Well, you're not wrong." The human idly plucks at the strings, plucking the siren's interest in turn. "But I honestly don't know how to play this."

"Just do what you're doing. It doesn't have to make sense." Daniel just wants to hear something new for once. A little nonsense doesn't hurt, after all.

"...Sure."

The human plucks at the strings, strums a bit, before returning to random plucking. Musical notes jumble together in a strange pattern as the brunette gets a feel for the instrument. It's nothing special. It's nothing interesting. But it's something relaxing. Daniel sighs softly as he watches the human's fingers wander the many strings on the instrument, closing his eyes as he listens to the idle noise.

"...Davey used to play me songs all the time."

Daniel keeps his eyes closed as he nods along. "Mmm."

"He'd always come up with new songs. Most of the time, they were just silly tunes about whatever he saw that day. Like the trees swaying in the wind. Or the stars sparkling at night. Sometimes, he'd make songs at our friend's behest. Something like, 'Gwen isn't your mother, so stop asking her to fix your clothes for you'. That one was always one of my favorites."

"Mmhm." 

"He loved the hell out of this thing. Said it was the best gift I'd ever given him. Well, second to best gift." 

Daniel opens his eyes wordlessly as he focuses on the human's sad smile.

"My very best gift to him was my love, or so he said."

"...What about you?"

"Hm?" The human stops plucking at the strings to focus on Daniel.

"What did he give you in return for your gifts?"

"...His smiles. His laughter." The human's eyes grow watery, but not a single tear sheds as Daniel watches. "I loved seeing him happy. I'd do anything to see him shine brighter than the sun and the stars. I thought that I wouldn't need anything else in the world. Just him, and his sweet, bright smiles." 

They both look down at the instrument held tenderly in the human's hands. Bright smiles and happy laughter are long gone now, Daniel thinks. But the memories remain. So maybe, not all is lost. The instrument, despite how the loss of its owner still affects him, garners positive emotions from the human. He smells less like rot, which is good. But nothing else comes from him. No sweet scent of happiness, no fragrant scent of wistfulness. Nothing but rot, though the scent is a little weaker than usual.

So. It's a start.

"Keep the instrument."

"What?" The human looks up at him with shock. Daniel rolls his eyes as he continues.

"Keep the instrument. It obviously will give you something to do in this empty excuse of a shack."

"I guess but-" The brunette looks around at the noticeable lack of food. "I don't have anything else to trade."

"So then, what? You're going to trade away your beloved's beloved instrument?"

The human hugs it closer to his chest. "...I refuse."

"Good." Daniel stands up with a grin and heads towards the door. "At least you have some semblance of life in you. That'll make you tastier to devour."

"But what about the food?"

"I'll just catch fish until you figure something out." He shrugs as he pauses by the door, a thought returning to him as he studies the human still seated with the instrument. "By the by, what the hell is your name?"

The human squints at him suspiciously. "Why do you want to know?"

"To perfect my song, obviously." He rolls his eyes. "Makes it more personal, more intimate. More believable. I thought you wanted to drown in your delusions just a little bit more? If I make my songs more palatable to you, then maybe you can finally experience the ounce of joy needed to make me consider eating you."

"My name-" The human cuts himself off, frowning as he looks away from Daniel. He considers a little bit too long as Daniel snaps from where he stands.

"Well? What's your name? Or do you not have one?"

"I have one," he says calmly, not looking at Daniel, "but I'd rather not give it to you."

"Why the hell not?"

"I don't want you to grow attached." The human glances at Daniel before returning his attention to the instrument. "It'd be harder for you to eat me if you know my name, right? I wouldn't be another nameless human you want to eat. I'd be that guy you know, that guy who's name you'll say everyday like it's commonplace. You'll get attached, and then you'll reconsider making good on your promise to eat me. Better for us both if you don't know it."

He blinks. Once. Twice. Dumbfounded, almost. He didn’t think he’d be rejected being told a name. His chest twists into knots as his fist trembles by his side.

Daniel swallows hard as he glares at the human's head.

"Fine."

_(He's not disappointed. He's not.)_

The human flinches at his hard reply, but before he can get another word out, Daniel races out towards the sea.

He hears the ocean whisper, but he ignores it in favor of diving into the waves. And for once, the ocean welcomes him with a pitying embrace.

Pathetic, he thinks, as he lets himself sink. How truly pathetic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JOKES ON YOU, JASPER!!! HE'S ALREADY ATTACHED. 
> 
> god, when will they learn each other's names already. it was supposed to be this chapter but noooo, they gotta obsess over a lute instead.


	9. Melting like Snow on Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seasons come and go with a familiarity Jasper should be used to. That is, until he realizes that not all seasons are the same, and that where that season settles is what makes the difference between the sea and the forest.

He was never one for seagulls. But he did appreciate the noise they provided. Nothing beats the quiet like listening to the calls of the gulls, ever present, ever loud and grating.

Except now, he's been hearing them less and less. Sees them populate the sand and ocean less and less as the sun sets sooner and the clouds remain to obscure the stars from sight instead. The breeze becomes colder. The chill in the air becomes more than just a chill. It's with a certain kind of mental stumble that he realizes that he's never witnessed a seaside winter. True, he's experienced a winter surrounded by the ever present scent of pines and the quiet life it brings. But never had he thought that the gulls would leave him in silence as well.

The quickly approaching winter has him realizing that he is... ill prepared. As it should be. With winter comes the end, he thinks, of many things. The death of green, the threat of freezing limbs and chattering teeth, and the worry of never having enough to last through the cold. He knows he doesn't have enough. Doesn't have enough food. Doesn't have enough clothing or wood. Knows that he hasn't even begun to foster relationships with other people to justify relying on them. But then again, he used to pride himself on being self-sufficient to a point. It was one of the things David loved about him. How he could leave Jasper alone for a while, knowing that when he would return, Jasper would still be there having finished making dinner, or carving out a new bowl, or completed his numerous self-assigned tasks to keep them alive and well through the seasons.

Things change, of course. Whether or not he wants them to.

Jasper stares out into the dreary world, his arms resting on the frame of the dusty window. Dark, almost stormy weather outside. The moon doesn't shine through the clouds well enough to provide light, and the fire he's started is just enough that he can see a bit of his shack. He's lacking in resources, but he doesn't care. He can't be bothered with worrying about himself, or of being self-sufficient, or even of whether or not his little shack is built ready for the winter. It probably isn't.

He closes his eyes with a sigh.

That's fine.

His mind drifts off to snowier scenes, where the cold dusts more than a layer of powder onto the ground, and a bright, happy blush overtakes David's features as he takes Jasper's hands with a laugh. David had knitted scarves one year. The yarn wasn't easy to come by, but a neighbor of theirs gifted some to David, and somehow he'd managed to procure two warm scarves from the bundle. One for David. One for Jasper. Both the same shade of white. Matching.

David was so pleased with himself.

They both had them for that winter. He had hoped that they'd keep wearing them together until the color aged and faded into something not quite white, but still well-worn with love and warmth.

The scarves are still that shade of white. Maybe not as new as before, but still a noticeable shade of white. Almost untouched in essence. For a moment, he wonders if he has traded those scarves away too. Has he? The past month or so feels like a fog he's barely trudged through. Did he even bring them with him? He didn't expect he'd get this far, didn't think he'd live this long to make it to a winter without David by his side-

A faint knock at his door. It's enough to rouse him from his thoughts. Odd. Nobody knocks at his door. The knock sounds again, before a clawing noise replaces the feeble knocking. Except. The clawing sounds more like a faint scratching. As though whoever is behind his door is barely able to put their weight into it.

Winter. It's. Winter time, isn't it? Winter time means that birds go off to warmer climates and better grounds for living. More stability and greater chances of living. All the gulls have gone away, but he'd forgotten another pair of wings that still visit him like the ever present crash of the waves.

He rushes to his door, for once not kicked open, and is greeted by the siren, soaked and trembling, one hand still held up and shaking as he'd been clawing at Jasper's door.

A fish is held tightly in the other.

"Oh, gods." Jasper pulls the siren in without another word, and the scent of salt and feel of icy skin only has him pushing the dripping bird man towards his fire. "Sit here." He takes the fish from the siren and leaves it on the table.

"E-eat." Even in this state, the siren demands that Jasper eats. As if this is all he cares for. Jasper keeps from grinding his teeth together.

"Later." He looks around for something he kicked away a while back, when they had been standing in the rain together and he'd dried the siren off. The sheet. Getting to his knees, he looks under his bed and finds the discarded fabric still there. As he pulls it out, a musty scent wafts from it as dust scatters in the air.

It'll have to do.

He turns back to the siren, the blonde curled up with his wings wrapped around him protectively. But he's still soaked. Still smelling of the sea and looking paler than usual. Sand is scattered all over the floor, and Jasper only belatedly realizes that the siren isn't just tracking in sand with his bare feet.

First things first. He looks at the feathers scattered about the siren's back. They look fine, almost like down with how small they are, unlike the long, sleek feathers that make up his wings. White in color. Soft to the look.

Whiter than the scarves.

He blinks and shakes his head. No, Jasper can't get distracted now! The siren's pale skin could take a dangerous looking hue if he's not quick, and he begins with wiping and drying off as much of the siren as he can. He's careful around the small feathers as he presses down gently. A soft noise comes from the siren, but he pays the blonde no mind. With his back as dry as he can get it, he moves onto the wings.

The large, sleek feathers are smooth to the touch. They don't look too wet, damp perhaps, but a quick rub down with the sheet has the feathers dried in no time. The real danger is the soaked chiton, clinging to the siren's skin and leaving the man shivering even as he sits so close to the fire. There's only a small beat of hesitation before Jasper drops the sheet to kneel in front of the siren and carefully, gently uses his fingers to pry a small gap between the wings. Bright, blue eyes stare at him from within, the gaze narrowing just enough that Jasper scoffs at the unspoken threat.

"Don't worry, I'll eat."

A soft harrumph answers him. Worry nips at his mind that perhaps that's all the sound the siren can make in his state. 

"Hey." He pulls the wings apart just a bit more, and the light from the fire reflects on the siren's face. "I can only do so much from out here. You'll freeze to death if you keep that on." A little nod towards the white cloth still clinging to the siren's thin frame. "Can you take it off? I'll leave the sheet here next to you so that you can wrap it around you. I promise not to look." For a while, the siren merely stares back at Jasper. He looks... tired. He must be tired. All that cold must have sapped the energy from the blonde, and judging by all the sand Jasper can see covering the front of the siren, it took all his energy just to make it to the shack. "You'll feel better, I promise."

Quickly, he steps away from the siren and turns to direct his attention to the fish instead. Still dead. Still just... laying there. He should cook it. For whatever reason, the siren must have taken a dive into the freezing waters to catch it for Jasper to eat. Usually, the siren would catch more than just one fish but...

All Jasper can do with a fish is roast it, maybe boil it, but it won't be enough to feed both of them. The siren needs to eat more than him too, especially given his state. A wet thump sounds behind Jasper. He'll need to wring and dry out the chiton later, maybe even find the siren something else to wear. But for now, he needs to worry about food. Food to regain strength. Food for warmth. Food to survive. 

And all he has is one fish. 

Frustration.

He didn't care that he had nothing else to eat. Not really. Not at all. Who cares if Jasper starves? Not Jasper. The only one who cares is the siren, and that's for the blonde's own purposes. Shit, why does he care about the siren anyways? He didn't ask to be fed. Didn't ask for this fish that nearly caused the siren to freeze to death. Didn't ask to be cared for in the first place.

He doesn't care! And yet.

When he turns around, because of course he does, a bit of him hurts from the sight of the siren, hunched over still, sheet tightly wrapped around him, yet still exposed around his shoulders and the small of his back. The wings. At least now, they aren't curled around him protectively. But he's still shivering. Trembling. Cold with lips slowly changing hues still.

He and David look so different and yet. _And yet._

Jasper grabs the thin blanket off his bed and approaches the siren slowly. "...Can you spread your wings for me?"

The siren looks at him with a cautious look. It is a strange request but. Maybe it'll help him relax more. He doesn't say a word as they continue to stare at each other. And slowly. Slowly. The siren relaxes his shoulders. Fans his wings out across the floor. Sighs with the faintest sound of chattering teeth. Jasper's blanket isn't enough to cover the entire wingspan, but it's enough to drape over thin shoulders and sopping wet hair. 

"You'll be okay." He doesn't know why he says this, but as the siren's gaze lingers on Jasper's, he finds himself repeating the words again. "You'll be okay."

He'll be okay. Jasper just-

He looks around his shack. His empty, bleak shack. With nothing around to help. Help.

Jasper needs help. He thinks quickly. The fish. A pot. Something hot and warm. Filling, even. A stew. But he needs more than just a single fish and hot water.

He needs vegetables. Herbs. A touch of spices. David was always better at cooking, always so willing to teach Jasper to cook, and Jasper learned of course.

But all he has is a fish, a pot, and some water from the nearby town well.

It's not enough. It'll never be enough. He needs help. But how? And who?

And Jasper blinks. A bushy, graying beard. Light, blue eyes. A friendly smile. A friendly fisherman. 

And he doesn't live too far away. A walk's away, really.

Help.

Jasper can get help.

"Wait here." He gestures with his hands as he backs away from the siren. Doesn't study the look on the blonde's face. Doesn't think too hard on the mix of emotions that flash in those bright, blue eyes. "I'll be back, I just- I need to get something. Some food."

The siren opens his mouth as if to say something, but he merely sneezes instead and continues to look miserable. A weak sound rumbles in the blonde's throat, and it has Jasper rattling out a weak sigh.

The noise reminds him of-

No, not right now. Instead, he puts his hand on the door and grips the handle tight.

"I swear. I swear I'll be back." A pause. "You won't be alone for long, I promise."

He dashes out of his shack without looking back. The brisk cold greets him as he races across the sand. It's a quick run, but he finds himself impatient with how long it takes him. Every second matters.

Jasper knows this.

He has to be quick.

He doesn't want to come home and find-

And find-

His fist connects with the wooden door in front of him, and he pounds at it loudly. The fisherman takes seconds too long to answer the door. Seconds too long to face Jasper with a surprised gaze, as if he'd never expect Jasper to approach him in such a hurried state. Seconds, seconds, all flying by as Jasper huffs and puffs.

"Please." It's hard to catch his breath. When was the last time he ran? Ages ago, in a forest far away, when he was looking for a familiar head of red. Red in red. And what if he comes back and sees something else? Blue surrounded by blue. Because the fire wasn't enough. Because he wasn't enough.

Jasper's never enough.

"What is it, sonny?" The fisherman's voice is deep, rumbling in his chest as he watches Jasper patiently. Wrinkles frame his eyes, and if the old man didn't bury half his face in his beard, Jasper would assume that the wrinkles would be framing his mouth as well. From laughs or frowns, he can't be sure, but the old fisherman gestures him inside. It's only then that Jasper realizes his own shivers. When the door shuts behind him, he can't help but notice the clutter all around the fisherman's own home. Maps are scattered on the walls, a few resting on a nearby table. A few fishing rods are leaning against a wall. Plates and bowls are left haphazardly on the window sill, some lingering on the floor itself. Doors hiding a bedroom, maybe even a small kitchen. But what catches his attention the most are the tools resting on the table. A compass. A pencil. And a looking glass. Before he can take a peek at the maps however, a heavy hand lands on his shoulder. The fisherman continues to wait as Jasper stammers out a few words.

"I. I need help."

"Help?" 

"Yes. Um." He has nothing to offer. Nothing of value he's willing to give that would justify suddenly barging over and asking for help. "I just- I realized I've- uh."

"Yes?"

"I need-" Jasper pauses, squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself to come up with something. "...I need some food."

"Is that all?"

"Um, yes, but!" He waves his hands frantically in front of him. "I can... work! Help you with things to... repay you! I'm- I used to be good with repairs, and- I'm a quick learner, sir, I know it might not seem like a lot but I'm willing to work if-"

"Now, slow down there, sonny." The fisherman chuckles and gently squeezes Jasper's shoulder. Twinkles in the man's eyes remind Jasper of the stars that would decorate the night sky. "We can sort that out later. But you say you need food?"

"Yes." Right. The siren. Seconds passing and slipping away. "For a stew. Fish stew. Um, anything would help, I just have a fish, really."

"Not much for a stew." Despite his words, another chuckle escapes the old man as he ambles away from Jasper. "Wait there."

He does as he's told, standing by the table as more seconds escape him. His eyes wander to the map on the table. It's... different from what he was expecting. Dots and lines litter the large parchment as he fails to find islands and landmarks that usually decorate maps. But no such things are drawn down. Just lines and dots and measurements. He follows the lines for as far as some of them go. Strange shapes seem to make up some of the connections, but nothing really sticks out to him. Just dots and lines, lines and dots, numbers occasionally, but nothing more.

There's not even a compass on the map. What kind of map even is this-?

"Here we are." Jasper's eyes snap back towards the returning fisherman, a bundle of vegetables wrapped tightly in some parchment. "This should do ya good."

"Thank you, sir-"

"Ah bup bup." The fisherman wags his finger and retreats back to the end of the room where his own fireplace is going. A brief shuffle and rustling later, the man stands up tall and walks back over to Jasper with an armful of chopped wood. "Now we're good to go."

"...we?"

"Yes, we." Another chuckle. Jasper wonders how much mirth fills the man. "I've never seen you once hold a fishing rod, or even see you step out of your shack for more than a few minutes. I'd like to see how you got your fish."

"I..." Jasper shifts idly, weighing his choices quickly. On one hand, everyone seems to know about the siren. He's not even an open secret. People know that the blonde perches and croons to unsuspecting visitors - it was one of the very first warnings Jasper was given. But the fisherman isn’t a stranger. He’s a local who is well aware of the risk. It can't hurt to lead the fisherman to his shack to where the siren is. But on the other hand... the fisherman, despite his age, looks strong. Like he could cause pain if he put his mind to it. And the siren is thin. Thinner than David ever was. There's hardly any muscle on him, and whatever muscle he does have seems to be in his wings. 

But the logs. More warmth would help the siren, and Jasper doesn't think that he can carry back both the food AND the logs by himself. And the fisherman is... kind.

Surely, he can trust the old man for just the day.

Only for the day.

"I promise no harm," the fisherman soothes, as if seeing the very thoughts Jasper thinks to himself. Reluctance has Jasper lowering his tense shoulders.

"...Alright."

"Good to hear." With a smile, the fisherman leads the way back to Jasper's shack. "I wanted to get a good look at the ol' hut I gave ya, anyways. It wasn't in the best of shape when you came here, but it was all I could offer. Never really understood why you accepted it so quickly, but maybe the view made up for it." He talks out loud as Jasper follows silently behind him. Despite his age, the fisherman takes longer strides than Jasper as the younger of the two half-jogs to keep pace with him. "I've been meanin' to come over and see if any repairs are needed, but ah, you keep brushin' me off before I can. No harm, though. Makes me wish I brought my tools in hindsight however." Another deep chuckle. By the time they make it to Jasper's shack, Jasper loses his chance to respond as the fisherman easily opens the shack.

Jasper braces himself, already ready to accept that he's too late, that the siren is a crumpled, dead heap on the floor in front of his fire because he took too long, like he always has, like he's always done-

"Ahh, Daniel. I was wondering where you got off to." The fisherman's voice rumbles through the shack as he walks around the trembling heap. Daniel? The siren's name is Daniel? Jasper watches as the old man kneels by the siren to start adding more wood to the fire. "Thought you'd have flown off by now."

A growl answers the fisherman, but it sounds more of annoyance than aggression. Jasper blinks. They seem... familiar with each other. Another growl greets his ears as the fisherman ruffles the blanket covered head. 

"Haven't changed a bit. Sonny," he turns back to Jasper, gesturing to his near empty table with the lone fish on it, "why don't you get the ingredients ready for the stew?" Jasper nods dumbly, setting the vegetables on the table and reaching for his knife. He hears a clatter, a territorial growl, and an answering chuckle. Without looking up, he feels rather than hears the fisherman breeze past him as leaves the shack with what Jasper assumes is his pot. Probably to get fresh water. That leaves him to the task of descaling and gutting the fish. A moment's hesitation reminds him to take care of the vegetables first, poorly chopping up the carrots, potatoes, and onion into chunks as he can hear a faint, melodic laugh in the back of his memories.

David always did say that he was a bit careless in the kitchen.

Silence reigns between him and the siren as he begins to clean the fish. The crackle of the fire, now a warmer blaze with the added logs, isn't enough to fill his mind up with senseless noise, so Jasper clears his throat.

"The um, the fisherman." A soft rustle of the sheets is his answer. "He seems to know you."

Silence. He glances over to the siren and finds those icy blues staring him down. The blonde's mouth is parted slightly, as if trying to say something. Instead, what comes out is a hoarse, rough noise that sounds more like a cough and less like a response. 

"Okay, it's okay." He motions with his hands to soothe the siren, frustration overtaking the blonde's face. "We can talk later, when you've eaten." A pointed glare has Jasper amending his sentence. "When _we've_ eaten." By the time satisfaction makes itself known on the siren's face, the fisherman makes his reappearance with a half full pot of water. A quick glance at Jasper's handiwork has another chuckle escaping the fisherman as he easily pats Jasper's shoulder.

"Attaboy."

The stew's components are dumped in as the trio sit quietly in the shack. Jasper and the siren linger by the fire, the siren making inquisitive sniffs towards the stew as Jasper fumbles around with the siren's chiton. The fisherman sits at the table, and Jasper doesn't miss the way he looks around at the bare shack.

Despite whatever thoughts must be going through his mind, the old man says nothing.

Luckily, Jasper has enough bowls for all three of them, but the old man declines with a smile. It leaves more for the siren and him, but he only eats with a quarter of the gusto the siren has. The siren makes pleased noises as he slurps away at the stew while Jasper pushes a carrot around the broth. He only eats when he feels not one, but two pairs of eyes pressuring him to take a bite. With a sigh, he slowly eats his stew just as the siren makes for seconds.

"So, Daniel," the fisherman speaks up as the siren slurps loudly, "are you strong enough to fly back to your little nest?"

"It's a cave," the siren growls out, voice a bit scratchy as he clears his throat, "and I will be, once I warm up some more."

"Your clothes are still wet though." Jasper toes at the fabric he had spread out by the fire. "You could get sick if you try to put it back on in this weather."

"Oh please, as if that'd be of concern."

"You almost froze to death!"

"A simple mistake!" 

"Why _did_ you almost freeze to death?" The fisherman breaks their growing aggravation easily with his curious gaze. "Shouldn't you have left days ago?"

"Hmph." He gestures towards Jasper with annoyed exasperation. "If I'm gone, who's going to feed this idiot?"

"Hey."

"Am I wrong?" A beat. "Didn't think so."

A chuckle this time. "I see. Well, Daniel, if you still need some time to recover, you're always free to stay in my home-"

"And be forced to smell wet seal every fucking minute? No thanks." The siren makes a disgusted noise. 

"You're not worried he's going to eat you?" Their conversation is too easy. Too familiar. The siren is... well, a siren. But the fisherman is human too, just like Jasper. Why isn't he scared of the siren? And why is he so familiar with him? So strangely comfortable and at ease with the blonde that he's willing to extend an invitation to his home to the siren? 

"Of course not." The fisherman shrugs easily as the siren makes another disgusted noise. "He didn't manage to do it years and years ago. Now I'm at the age where he thinks I'm not worth the effort any longer."

"Too tough," the siren interjects. "Old people are harder to chew, and their flesh tastes too dry."

"Exactly." Despite the demeaning words, the fisherman smiles brightly. "But that's besides the point. Where are you going to stay while you wait?"

"Uhh, my rock?" He rolls his eyes. "Where else?"

"I don't think that's a good idea." Jasper cuts in, looking at the blanket and sheet covering the siren. "Those won't keep you warm or dry out there."

"So what? I'm supposed to stay with you until my clothes dry?" The blonde's sneer should have cut through Jasper if it weren't for the fact that he's seen much worse from a ten year old. 

"Yes." It was his fault the siren nearly froze to death in the first place. A part of him wants to make it up to the siren. Offer him a warm place to stay until he's well enough to survive the winter on his own.

If he can.

"...You're kidding me."

"Not really."

"I'm glad that's settled then!" The fisherman stands up with a creak, a light groan escaping him as he pats his knees. "I'll take my leave then. Sonny," he glances at Jasper with a twinkle in his eyes as Jasper meets his gaze, "come by my hut whenever you please. Whether it be to repay me or simply for a visit. An old man like me wouldn't mind seeing someone around every once in a while." 

"I'll... I'll remember that."

The fisherman makes an agreeable hum as he makes his way to the door. "Sounds fine by me. Enjoy your evenin', boys." Before either of them can get another word out, the fisherman leaves without any fanfare. Neither of them say anything else as Jasper gathers their bowls and puts them to the side.

Daniel.

That's the siren's name, isn't it?

He remembers the siren asking for his name days ago, and the almost crushed look of anger when Jasper refused to tell him. It's almost unfair that he knows the siren's name, but the siren doesn't know his. But... at the same time, he meant it when he said that he didn't want the siren to get attached to him. It wouldn't work out. Neither of them would get what they want. So then, what does he do with this newfound knowledge?

"You... your name."

"What about it." The siren doesn't look to him and focuses his gaze on the fire instead. 

"Is it... Daniel?"

"No, it's Simon." He rolls his eyes and glares at Jasper. "Yes, it's fucking Daniel, what else could it be?"

"I just-" He backtracks quickly. What was he trying to say? Trying to do? He asks that the siren stay the night, almost by force at this rate, even if it's to subtly apologize for putting him in that position in the first place. It's just temporary. It's not like they'll grow attached just because of one night. "...Sorry. I just wanted to make sure." He stands up abruptly and stokes the fire. With the fire still going, the siren's clothing should dry out by the time morning arrives. He flips the clothing over and hopes it'll be enough to get it to completely dry. "Are you comfortable sleeping on the floor? It's not much, but I wasn't sure-"

"I've slept on fucking rocks, stop assuming I'm a sensitive chick." As if to prove his point, the siren quickly curls up on the wooden floor. The sheet and blanket cover him as he lays on his stomach, wings spread out a bit to catch some of the fire's warmth. "Stop worrying."

"Okay." Jasper crawls onto his bed and curls up on his side. No blanket. Not that he worries about being cold but. He rolls over and looks at the siren. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Yes, shut up or I'll find worms to shut you up." The glare on the siren's face is serious. "Go to sleep."

"I- ...okay." He turns away from the siren to face the window instead. The moon's glow is starting to bleed through the wispy clouds, and the fire continues to warm his one roomed shack with ease. Just as he's about to drift to sleep, a soft, almost nervous voice barely speaks up.

"...Daniel."

"Mmmgh?" Sleep begins to overtake him as the voice continues.

"You can... call me Daniel."

He doesn't dignify him with a response, but a small bit of warmth keeps him feeling just a little more cozy. It's just for the night.

Only for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you guess who the fisherman is??? my only hint is that it's a character you'll least expect, but is someone daniel is deeply connected to in canon.


	10. Waves Meant to Crash and Uncover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter was never kind to birds. It was instinct that he migrated to the southern waters during this time. Now Daniel is forced to experience what being stuck in winter truly means for his kind.

This sucks. Winter sucks. Everything about winter fucking sucks. He's been cooped up in the shack for longer than he'd like. The unfamiliar weather has struck him in ways he hasn't anticipated before. All he wants to do is fly to his rock, to his little cave, where everything is familiar and feels like home. Instead, however, he has a human that's constantly dragging his frozen ass off the beach and into his shack, over and over again. And instead of Daniel being the one caring for and feeding the human, he finds himself in the uncomfortable position of needing the caring and feeding. It churns up uncomfortable feelings in his chest as he watches day after wretched day the human wandering off to the fisherman's hut for food. For scraps.

Daniel should be providing. He should be able to catch fish! It's a basic skill, one he's learned since he was a chick. But alas, they have to survive off of someone else's efforts, of what they can spare to share with them. It leaves Daniel feeling... pathetic. Like he needs to prove himself. That he's capable of leaving and fending for himself in the cold, harsh world.

And it's not like the human keeps him here against his will. Of course not. He can count the number of times he's left the shack in an attempt to fly to his normal perches. 

And each time ends with failure as he finds himself pelted by freezing rain, or attacked by brisk winds that remind him that he's not completely covered in feathers and down. And each time, he finds himself being dragged back into the shack to be dried and warmed up and fed. He can leave at any time. But each time ends in failure. And it's not like the human turns him away after each failure. No, he's taken back in wordlessly, without a fuss, and without a stipulation.

The human tries to make him comfortable in this crummy, old shack. To make it feel like a place of rest for Daniel. It's supposed to be comforting, welcoming even. But that doesn't make him any less mad. Any less restless. Any less trapped.

"Aaaaah!"

"Oh my god." The human throws his blanket at Daniel, balled up with the intent to shut up his screeching. "If you want to leave, then leave!"

"I can't!" Daniel whines as he squirms on the floor. It's been a while since he nearly froze to his death outside the human's shack. He hasn't had much experience with a winter spent in the northern parts of his territory. Sure, he was used to cold, but he wasn't used to a freezing cold that only got worse with freezing waters. How was he supposed to know that diving to catch those damned, hard to see fish would result in the water turning into a horrible, solid like fixture onto his arms, his feathers, and even his hair?

Wretched, this whole winter concept!

"You can." The human huffs and points at his door. "I've seen you walked in and out of here more times than I can count."

"Then count some more!" Daniel snaps and pushes himself off the floor just to pace noisily. He ignores the human's tired sighs as he continues to gripe. "I don't understand why you humans stay in place for winter - it's cold, it's hard to fish, less animals come by, and the rain turns into these, these awful, white flecks that burn your skin if it touches on you!"

"It's called snow," the human stands up and lightly pushes Daniel onto his one chair, "and for the last time, it wasn't even that bad. I'd hardly even call it a dusting of snow. It was barely anything."

"It was cold!" Daniel snaps and tries to wave off the human's hands, but the brunette keeps his grip on Daniel's shoulders. "Colder than the winds during a storm, colder than the waves when the ocean is angry-"

"That just means you have to cover up, for fuck's sake." The human takes his hands off of Daniel just to gesture to his bare arms. "I guess your legs are fine, but this thin cloth you wear definitely doesn't help you." 

"Well, I'm not wearing your smelly clothes." Daniel snarls and leans away from the human as he rolls his eyes. "You stink."

"How original, it's like I've never heard that one before." With a sigh, the human walks away to grab his pot. The sight has Daniel grumbling to himself. Off to beg for more food from the fisherman.

That should be Daniel getting food for them. Daniel, who shouldn't be letting some cold water get the best of him. Daniel, who shouldn't be letting the human act like a pathetic little chick just so they can get some food from an old meal Daniel couldn't hunt down ages ago. Daniel, who is cranky and is banned from the ocean until he, according to the human, "learns not to dive for fish in winter" and "stops getting blown around by the strong winter winds" and "understands that patience is more than a virtue, so please stop scratching up the floors with your talons".

Being holed up in a shack for more than a few days is really starting to take its toll on him. He grabs the blanket off the floor and drapes it over his wings and arms. It's not like he'll be able to fly in this weather anyways. The biting cold is too distracting, and the last time he tried to fly to his cave, he nearly crashed into the cliff side in front of the human. Speaking of, the human glances at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You coming with?"

"What else do I have to do? Add more scratches to your floor?"

"I'd rather you didn't." Without another word, the human makes his way towards the door. Daniel follows, blanket wrapped tightly around him as he keeps the tail of it from dragging on the ground. The human isn't a fan of sand getting all over his floors now that Daniel is temporarily nesting there. Daniel doesn't care, not really, but the human minds more than he should. It’s just sand, after all. And they live on the beach. 

Still. He makes an effort to keep the blanket from spreading around more and more sand, and he makes sure to remind himself not to track more sand in later. The pair of them shuffle off towards the fisherman's hut. Despite his words earlier about Daniel's lack of dress, the human himself begins to shiver in the brisk cold. Daniel _could_ offer him to huddle under the blanket but...

He speeds up his pace and walks ahead of the human, sticking his tongue out as the brunette shivers and frowns at him. With the pace he keeps, Daniel finds himself standing and kicking the hut door as the human calls out for him to quit it. He refuses to quit it, even when the door opens and the fisherman makes a loud, pained grunt when Daniel kicks his knee.

"Daniel!" The human catches up to Daniel as the blonde slowly blinks. He should be used to the human calling him by his name by now. Despite hearing it more and more often, hearing his name from the human is still enough to stagger his thoughts. "Stop being an ass!"

"For the last time, I'm a-"

"Seagull, fuck, gods, I know, that's not what I-"

"NO, a SIREN-"

"Boys, boys," soothes the fisherman, already chuckling as he steps aside to let them in, "that's enough of that." They both trail into the hut as Daniel takes a look around it once more. The human grabs the fisherman’s attention with a question, but instead of listening in on the question, Daniel spies the maps and focuses on them instead.

Star maps, if he recalls. They have more constellations than the last time he looked. But, then again, the last time he truly looked at them was years and years ago. Back when the fisherman was known by a different name.

Hm, what did he call him back then?

Ah, yes, the p-

"Daniel?" Suddenly, the human is by his side, startling Daniel out of his thoughts. "I've got the food, ready to go?"

Daniel looks down into the pot. Vegetables, leaves (or spices, as the selkie once said), and... fish. He frowns at the freshly caught fish, the look of it a bit unknown to Daniel. He's never had winter fish. No doubt this will taste interesting but, he digresses.

That's not the important bit. The whole reason he stuck around during the winter was to make sure the human was fed. That he could stay alive long enough for Daniel to... keep his end of their deal. So that he could kill the human in the midst of his happy little fantasies, and Daniel would have a scrumptious meal. 

_(When was the last time he had human, anyways? He thinks of laughter - from the selkie. He thinks of howls - from the ocean. Stopped, always stopped. When was the last time he had human? When was the last time he wanted human? When was the last time he craved human?)_

He snarls and pulls the blanket over his head. "How pathetic."

And the human blinks. Blankly. Looks between Daniel and the pot as though he can't decide whether to agree or take offense. But Daniel knows that familiar resignation in his eyes. "Okay."

"Is this how you're going to continue to live your life? Being fed scraps like some mongrel wandering the beaches until some idiotic passerby takes pity on you and hands you food? Thereby extending your pathetic life longer as you grow more and more dependent on others and lose any ability to care for yourself - a mongrel? Is that what you are?"

"Now, Daniel-" The fisherman tries to intervene, but Daniel snarls at him and swipes his talons at him.

"You! You don't get to call me by my name." He points a finger at the old man and growls. "I should have eaten you years ago. You were only lucky! If it hadn't been for your little protector, I would have eaten you until there was nothing left for her to grieve."

Aggression.

He'd almost forgotten how good he was at it.

Is.

How good he is at it.

_(A bit of fear spikes within him. Soft. Is that what happened? Sirens aren't supposed to be soft. He's grown soft - soft from the years of watching from afar. From wanting, yearning, envying, craving, desiring. Sirens don't do that. He was never meant to do any of that. Sirens are the source of all of those emotions. He's not supposed to feel those emotions. He was never meant to feel any of those emotions._

_And yet.)_

The fisherman stiffens as the human levels a stare at Daniel. Questioning. Maybe even trying to glare. He knows the human can glare, he's felt the heat of it plenty of times before. So why isn't the human glaring at him for his aggression? For his comments, for calling him pathetic, for calling him a mongrel, for attacking what little pride he has left-

"Daniel." And why is he speaking so softly to him? "What's going on?"

"I'm saying the truth that needs to be said." The corner of his mouth pulls up into a toothy, horrible smirk. "All humans are pathetic, and that's what makes you such easy prey."

Easy prey.

"Easier than fish?"

"Yes, easier than fish. Fish don't care for songs. For delusions. But humans- it's so easy! I sing a song, a stupid song, and you idiots come dancing straight into my hands." Daniel paces what space he can pace given how messy the hut is. Unlike the human's little shack that is bare of nothing but the scatterings of sand and a few loose feathers. How annoying that this hut reminds him of the cluttered mess of his cave, filled and littered with trinkets and treasures he's collected throughout his years of existence, and it reminds him of who he used to be. How easily he once bore the title of siren. How he no longer bears that title with ease. "It's easy, so very easy!"

So easy. So easy that he could have done it with his eyes closed back in the day. So easy that prey would never slip from his talons like a slippery fish. So easy that he'd never need to fish more than a few times a season. So easy. So very easy.

So what changed?

Is he... a failure?

A terrible excuse for a siren? Just playing with his food until it's taken from him, until it's aged past its prime, until he falls into the habit of feeding it scraps like a poor excuse of a siren who came across a human one day and felt-

And felt-

Hands land on his bare shoulders. Solid. Weighty. But not heavy. He hadn't even realized the blanket had slipped off. When he looks up, the sky stares back at him with... 

"Let's go outside," the human says softly. Without a fuss, he lets the human guide him out of the hut and towards the sea. They sit down on the sand where the ocean can barely brush against their legs, and he can hear the whispers, the whispers so soft, so gentle.

And he realizes how much he's missed the ocean. 

Quietly, they both watch as the waves push and pull at the sand before them. Daniel takes a deep breath of the familiar salty air and... basks in it. It's calming. Quiets the noise in his head that tells him that he's pathetic, that he's useless, that he can't even do the one thing a siren is supposed to do, and that now he can't even do the most basic skill he has-

"I asked the fisherman earlier for a favor." The human speaks hesitantly, slowly easing his way back into Daniel's thoughts. "About teaching me how to fish."

Daniel blinks slowly as he stares up at the gray sky. It's cold out. "...But you don't have talons. Or a pole."

"The fisherman said he'd lend me one of his older poles. That I could come out and we could sit by the dock by his hut." The waves brush up against their legs, but it's not enough to freeze. Not enough to harm. Just a soft reminder that it's still here. "...You were right. About me not being able to provide for myself."

"Of course I am. I've been the one providing for you up until recently."

"Yeah, it's hard not to notice." The wind blows past them, making them both shiver. "But if I try depending on you now, you'd just end up dying." The human turns to look at him, and Daniel thinks there's a little glimmer of something in his eyes that wasn't there before. "And I still need you."

But that glimmer is lackluster. Fake. Like a shiny metal Daniel finds buried in the sand, only to discover that it's useless. Ugly.

"Of course," he grunts. They both know what the human means.

"If I learn to fish, then that means I'll be the one providing. At least during the winter. It'll be... different. But maybe a change is what we need. So that we can both survive until spring returns."

"Yeah, whatever." But Daniel will still be useless in the end. Unable to provide, unable to hunt. A sad excuse of a siren.

"I know you don't like this." The human gestures vaguely around them. "But it'll only be for the winter. And then things can go back to normal. Until then, you're stuck with me, and I'm stuck with you."

"How awful. I don't think I can bear sleeping in that empty shack of yours any longer."

"...Maybe we can do something about that." Despite his words, the human doesn’t look too enthused by what he's about to suggest. "We can... fill it up with stuff, I guess. More blankets, I suppose? That'd be a start. I think we need more blankets, instead of struggling with just the one."

Daniel thinks back to that blanket left abandoned in the fisherman's hut. "More like none at the moment."

The human shrugs. "We can go back and get it later. Along with the food."

"Mmm." So the human fishes, and that leaves Daniel with... what, exactly? He sits and looks pretty on the floor of the human's shack? "And what do I do? Add more scratches to the floor? Squawk in your ear as you fish?"

"No to both of those." They watch as the waves slowly become agitated. The ocean knows what the human will say next, and as does Daniel. He closes his eyes as he listens. "I thought maybe, you could work on your song throughout the winter. It'll be... easier to talk about Davey if, if I'm distracted by something. Like fishing."

"Of course." It's not like Daniel can offer anything else up. His song is all he has left that the human wants. "Fine, we can do it like that."

"Alright." There's a smile on the human's face as he stands up. "I'm going to get the blanket and food. Then we can walk back to the shack."

"Sure." He doesn't turn to watch the human walk off, instead keeping his eyes trained on the ocean until the human is out of earshot. He listens, and listens, and listens. But the ocean doesn't whisper or yell at him. "What? Got nothing to say for once?" He growls at his beloved ocean as it continues to answer with its silence. "Not going to yell at me for agreeing to his terms? Not going to try and crash over me for using his memories to create a song to kill him with? Not even going to whisper how awful I am to be doing such a thing?"

And yet, the ocean keeps quiet. He stands up in a fury and shouts.

"Go on! Yell at me! Tell me I'm cruel! That I'm a monster!"

But no answer. Like he's being ignored. It's enough to make him notice the cold in full force, and he's shaking now as he screeches.

"You can't keep quiet forever! I know how you feel about me! You hate me!"

_(Even though he loves the sea and all its glory. He didn't ask to be born a siren. He just is. He wants to be loved by the sea, like how the sea loves its selkies and mermaids, how it loves his finned cousins and the monstrous fishes that live deep under the waves. He wants to be loved just like that, but perhaps he was never meant to be loved by the sea. After all, he has wings. Not fins or flippers. Wings. Maybe that's where it all went wrong.)_

"ANSWER ME!"

A weight wraps around his shoulders, and a hand presses lightly against his wings as he's guided away from the ocean.

"Let's get back inside." The human speaks softly as Daniel rubs furiously at his own face. "I'll make us some food."

Daniel doesn't dignify the human with an answer. Instead, he finds himself getting lost in words and memories and self-examinations, and he can't help but wonder if.

If maybe.

Maybe he's become a pitiful, pathetic mongrel too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smacks daniel, you can fit so many mental breakdowns into this boy!


End file.
